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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28382505">Soldier, Bard, Imperial and Lost Boy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_a_fandom_trashpanda/pseuds/im_a_fandom_trashpanda'>im_a_fandom_trashpanda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DreamSMP, Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Happy Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo has power oh my god, Rating will go up further into the fic, eret n fundy friendship :), my friends suggest adding certain characters right as i write them in it's hilarious, puffy &amp; ranboo stans my fucking beloveds, there are several kings bleh but also QUEEN PUFFY. puffy stans i am here for you</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:01:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28382505</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_a_fandom_trashpanda/pseuds/im_a_fandom_trashpanda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>i] When fate pulls the strings of one orphan boy to the attention of many, who's to say what will happen? Nobody knows for sure. Some will love him, some will hate him, and some will try and manipulate him. But honestly... What do you expect? This is Tommy we're talking about.</p><p>ii] Things change when you're suddenly not the baby anymore. Middle-child syndrome has never been a good look on a high-strung Wilbur, but sometimes, there are repercussions for our actions.</p><p>iii] Being the oldest often means being the most responsible. And he is. He's protective of his father, his brother, and would defend his father's people to the end. But sometimes, the threat is farther abroad than we think.</p><p>iv] Ruling a kingdom is a challenging feat, especially when you're the youngest reigning monarch, have several sons, and are the last of a dying people. But allies can be found in the most powerful places, if one only remembers to ask for help. Because that's definitely something Philza knows how to do. Right? ... Yeah, that's what you thought.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Cara | CaptainPuffy &amp; Jschlatt, Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Eret &amp; Floris | Fundy, Jschlatt &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>250</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Scared Of Going Out Into The Public</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> The townsfolk are singing again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sing of a soldier. The soldier with his gemstone sword, forged once and never to be forged again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their chorus is led by the poet. He sings and he strums and he taunts the soldier, who mockingly swipes at him with no real malicious intent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their cheers and song are hushed when the king passes by. No fear is held, for they know no harm will come if they are peaceful and hold no vengeance. They hush anyway at his crown and large wings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t fit into their chorus. He is a lost boy, he does not fit into their narrative.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The narrative of the Soldier, the Poet, and the King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy watches as the Princes throw their objects in the air. From experience he knows Prince Technoblade can’t play and Prince Wilbur barely knows how to swing a sword, but they catch each other’s instruments anyway and mimic one another. The King laughs and holds his crown aloft before taking one running leap and soaring into the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shadow sets everyone cheering and by the time he’s landed, Prince Technoblade has sheathed his blade and Prince Wilbur has started up strumming the familiar tune of “Soldier, Poet, King”, much to the crowd’s delight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And here he stands, in the crowd, scavenging for food, always hungry, never safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Last week, he remembers, cupping the flat top of his ear, Prince Technoblade caught him in the fields, snatching raw potatoes in hopes he could maybe, just maybe, have fresh food to eat for once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bloodthirsty Prince told him to be thankful he could still breathe fresh air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their kingdom is not as kind as it seems.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yesterday, there was loud shrieking from one of the spires as Prince Wilbur found Tommy’s dirtied fingerprints on his guitar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That time, he barely escaped, but not before his Prince Technoblade cleanly sliced the top of his thumb off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kingdom is not as peaceful as it seems.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he scowled, knelt just to the side of the procession, a hand with sharpened claws catches him by the wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are disdainful mutters among the crowd as Prince Technoblade thrusts him to the front, leaning down carefully and whispering, “Walk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kingdom is not as merciful as it seems.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I'm The Prince Of The Castle?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy is questioned by the Princes.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He kneels in front of a throne, with three royals looking down on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One Prince stands, leaning on the hilt of his sword like a crutch. His face and arms are crisscrossed with cuts and littered with bruises, and his hair is tied up neatly, a shade of pink which Tommy thinks he’s seen on the salmon in the water of the river nearby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other sits, almost draped, on the right arm of the throne, absentmindedly plucking his strings in a rather ominous tune. Tommy can’t see much from where he kneels, but he does see blistered fingers and bruised knuckles, and a single scar runs across the bridge of his nose. The bruises on Prince Technoblade’s arms and face aren’t dissimilar to the shape of Prince Wilbur’s knuckles, and the scar across Prince Wilbur’s face looks like it could have been drawn with the other Prince’s sword.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stares fervently at the King. His crown is hung loosely around Prince Wilbur’s arm, and his wings, with their mossy green colouring, are folded neatly against his back. There’s no real malice in his stare, but Tommy still feels uneasy looking at the three of them together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s one last person he notices, although they bear no recognition to him that he recalls in the moment. He wears a mask over the lower half of his face, and his green eyes have an unnatural glow to them. He has both an axe and a sword sheathed on his back. Tommy knows he doesn't want to get on the wrong side of him, whoever he is. He looks like a nightmare personified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's startled by Prince Technoblade speaking, "Why in the Goddex would you </span>
  <em>
    <span>steal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, child?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth is dry, and he's forgotten how long he's been sitting here, but he replies, "I'm just hungry, your Highness."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prince Wilbur speaks up, but his voice is rough and hoarse, like he's been screaming for hours (which, Tommy supposed, he sort of had). Nonetheless, he snaps, "You have food waiting for you at home, do you not?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dares to look directly into the King's eyes. There's no malice in the man's features, but Tommy still fears for the worst when he says, "I have no home, your Highness. Nor parents to whom I can return."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flinches as Prince Technoblade moves closer, hands curling around the hilt of his blade. The King simply looks across at him, and he settles back into his relaxed position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>King Philza steps down from his throne, walking forward until Tommy can see his shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he drops a small circlet in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Princes cry their outrage, shouting out that their father can't just </span>
  <em>
    <span>claim an orphan</span>
  </em>
  <span>, there are </span>
  <em>
    <span>consequences</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what will the other kingdoms think?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The King draws his own blade, and Tommy watches as both Princes quickly clamp their mouths shut. He dares to show a smirk, but quickly lets his face fall again, not wanting to risk anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prince Technoblade </span>
  <em>
    <span>snarls</span>
  </em>
  <span> at him, and he flinches once more. The King doesn't silence him, but allows Tommy to stand. Prince Wilbur plucks just two alternating strings on his guitar, and Tommy thinks that the resulting tune sounds </span>
  <em>
    <span>awfully</span>
  </em>
  <span> like a ticking clock. He doesn't want to find out what happens if and when the time runs out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King gestures to the masked stranger to stand to attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is your name, child?" The King says quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tommy, your Majesty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses, and waves the stranger down again, simply declaring, "Dream, please escort the Princes out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their protest is silenced by the stranger—Dream—unsheathing his axe, and they reluctantly leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the doors close firmly behind the Princes, the King turns to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I apologise for their behaviour. Techno— Technoblade—has... Issues... Regarding orphans like yourself, and Wilbur has never trusted anybody, quite frankly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy dares a smile at the man, "I get that. I'm not used to trusting people either."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know my name, I assume."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"King Philza. You're... well-known, it's a given."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You may call me Phil. And you, Tommy..." He bends slightly to pick up the circlet, adorned with small emeralds, not unlike the King's own crown, and placed it on Tommy's forehead, "You are the newest Prince."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Shadows Speak, And I Fucking Hate It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Techno and Dream spar. Wilbur is pissed.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Does anyone smell burnt toast? :)c</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wilbur watches Techno and Dream battle. Both his brother and the knight are perfectly capable of holding their own against one another, Wil knows, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying about them both. Sometimes Techno and Dream burn themselves out, especially when they duel. What Wilbur observes is just sparring, blade to blade, but Techno is as capable of channeling his plasma energy down into his blade just as Dream is pulling his axe out and wielding his own chaotic lunar energy, but it doesn’t stop Wil from worrying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fear manifests in a sudden burst, and the railing he was holding disintegrates into grains of soft, thin sand. He falls, and Dream moves to catch him before he falls into the pit, but Techno gets there first, swinging his sword so that the grains pile together quickly to soften his brother’s fall. Wilbur goes tumbling down his own sand pile, landing on his back with his guitar clutched to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Wilbur can open his mouth to thank Techno, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>tap, tap, tap </span>
  </em>
  <span>of cloven hooves echoes from above, and a shadow-clad figure drifts down. Both brothers groan, and Dream gathers his weapons, standing to attention beside them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, “Royal Advisor Schlatt, how... odd... to see you here.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Schlatt smirks in return, “You’re dismissed, Knight. I’ll take it from here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream looks surprised, but sheaths his sword and leaves to guard the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt was one of the few shadow casters left in the kingdom, the rest having been driven out by Wilbur’s first manifestation via sandstorm years ago. It was oddly common for a single sand magician to overpower a group of shadow casters, which meant the latter often gave King Philza and his kingdom a wide berth. The King welcomed all types of magic, hence why he recruited Schlatt as his Advisor (much to Schlatt’s initial dismay), but shadowcasters simply wanted nothing to do with Wilbur, and that was perfectly fine with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your father asked me to watch over you. He wants you two to spar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like, against you? Easy as fuck—" Wilbur hauls himself to his feet, positioning himself to manifest like he’s taught himself. But Schlatt vanishes in a whirl of his own making.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>His voice is distorted, but still his, when he says, “No. Against each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two Princes stare at one another for a moment, looking worried. Then Techno’s face clears, and he lunges. Wilbur barely has time to manifest his defence before Techno’s stealing the thin grainy substance from right in front of him, twisting it into a serpentine figure which blasts Wil square in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Gasping for breath, Wil encases himself in a sandstorm, the particles moving too loosely and too unpredictably for Techno to wield. From between the thin layers of sand, Wilbur can see a layer of shadow encasing his own cocoon, and manages to regain his breath, sending the storm spiralling outwards in rage, and it knocks both Techno and Schlatt, standing up above the pit, off their feet. They both stare at him incredulously, and Techno speaks before Schlatt can even get a word in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> did </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>come from, Wil? You haven’t been able to make storms since you first manifested when you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>eighteen</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the new Prince, isn’t it? You’re mad that he’s weaselled his way in without even trying.” Schlatt chimes in with a mocking laugh, dusting off his suit and clearing away all the sand into his shadows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur scowls at him, “Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m fucking pissed! The runt touched my guitar, stole from the fields, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Goddess knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> what else! Why should he just be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>waltz in here</span>
  </em>
  <span> like he belongs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before either Techno or Schlatt can reply, the doors burst open, and the room is flooded.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So... That ghost lore from yesterday (10/1/21) huh?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. In and out, like the tide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy learns his element.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The doors burst open, and the room is flooded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur and Techno freeze, but Schlatt, standing closest to the doors, turns and sees the unofficial Prince standing in the doorway, his hands held out in front of him. The boy doesn’t appear to know what he’s doing, so Schlatt figures aggression isn’t the way to go. Instead he unravels the shadows that surround himself and gently slips them around the boy, and the water flow slowly thins until it stops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Princes have combined their powers like usual, working to keep themselves afloat. The pit has been flooded, and Wilbur spins sand for Techno to work into a path, which they use to get to the edge of the upper level safely. As the sand dissipates, Techno supports Wilbur, since the latter isn’t used to using a lot of his power. Techno, on the other hand, is perfectly fine, having constantly worked on his stamina and strength since he first manifested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno angles his blade and Wilbur wearily positions himself once more, but Schlatt simply levels them with a stare and steps into the cocoon with the boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, kid.” Schlatt kneels, staring into the ocean eyes of the water prince, “Kid, I’m gonna help ya out. You just need to listen to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snaps out of his trance, “‘m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s okay. Did you know you’re a water elemental?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A water… What?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“A water elemental. They’re pretty common, and most can redirect water from nearby rivers, lakes, oceans, and other water sources. What you just did…” Schlatt glances at the fishtank that decorates the wall opposite, which is untouched, fish swimming peacefully inside, “Kid, what’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy. I’m supposed to be the new prince, but I got lost and I don’t really… I don’t feel like a prince at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Tommy. I’m Schlatt. I’m the Royal Advisor, and I do all the shadowy stuff, so if you see the shadows moving, don’t be afraid. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna let my shadows down so that I can talk to the other Princes, okay?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Tommy tenses, and Schlatt just about hears Wilbur shout about the water rippling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay. I’m gonna take you to George. He’s a water elemental, like you. He can help you. Is that okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you keep the shadows? They’re… Comforting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt’s taken aback, used to being the black sheep, snarled at for his ‘dark’ and ‘evil’ power, but smiles anyway, “Sure, kid. Sure I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shadows wrap around Tommy, protective as well as comforting, and Schlatt glances back at the other two. Techno looks confused, having never needed to be cradled with Schlatt’s shadows, but Wilbur, who knows exactly what is happening, looks furious, and Schlatt barely manages to pull shadows into a shield as Wilbur launches sand at Tommy. He threads the sand into his shadows like he’s done countless times before, and closes the doors behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Once, A Man Told Me I Was Bitter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>George teaches Tommy what water wielding is like :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>George and Sapnap are trying to make pebbles out of their elements when shadows fall across the guard’s quarters. Neither of them are fooled, but the rest of the guards cry out in surprise at the sudden darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, Royal Advisor.” George sighs irritably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Afternoon, boys! Gog, I have a water one here for ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George perks up at the mention of another water elemental, “Who is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt’s shadows withdraw from in front of Tommy, although he clings to them like a blanket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This, folks, is Prince Tommy. You all treat him with fucking respect or I’ll fucking blind you permananely, got it?” Schlatt announces to the whole room. They all nod, but stand there, waiting, and Schlatt yells, “Well? Get back to fucking work, this kingdom don’t fucking defend itself!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone except George and Sapnap spring to life. Sapnap idly bats a small ball of flame between his hands, which George douses with a flick of his finger. Sap protests, but straightens up when Schlatt coughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Advisor. What is it you need from us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap, don’t you have a younger fire elemental friend? I was thinking you two could show them how water and fire friendships work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The other kid? I don’t know, Prince Wilbur keeps poor Tubbo on his feet all day. I don’t know if he’d appreciate the disruption to his routine…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo…?” Tommy murmurs. Sapnap’s head whips towards the noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, dude. Totally forgot you were there. Prince Tommy, huh? Sounds like a pretty big thing for a pipsqueak like you.” Sapnap taunts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sap usually expects a splash of water, but what he gets instead is </span>
  <em>
    <span>drenched</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Tommy laughs, and his grip on Schlatt's shadows slackens. The shadowcaster’s eyes light up, and he silently encourages Sapnap, who taunts Tommy into fighting with him. While Tommy’s distracted, Schlatt winds his shadows back into himself, and slinks away, leaving the young Prince in the two guards’ capable hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, who’s this Tubbo kid? I bet I could wash him away, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughs fondly, “I don’t know, Tubbo’s pretty skilled with his fire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not today, Prince. The King’s probably expecting us to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geoooorge. Can’t we try the kid out? Test him a little, just like we did when we were kids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Fine, Sapnap. Go easy on him, though. Just because he’s powerful </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn't </span>
  </em>
  <span>mean he’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap teaches Tommy how fire elementals work, how each one has a slightly higher core temperature because of their magic, and that they’re often the first group of magic users to be considered for battle. Meanwhile, George teaches Tommy how to </span>
  <em>
    <span>wield</span>
  </em>
  <span> his water, how a lot of it is a mental connection, and how water elementals are among one of the most deadly types, since many consider them docile and peaceful, which gives them an unintended advantage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... so yeah, water flows, and you have to always keep that in mind when wielding. Also, always remember what your opponent’s power is, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> if they’re uncommon, like Schlatt and his shadows.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shadows are uncommon?” Tommy questions, “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before either guard can answer, a familiar voice chimes in, “Because of Prince Wilbur and his sand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, Schlatt? Prince Wilbur? Does sand… Do sand magicians do better in battle?” Tommy asks, trying to recall what Sapnap had told him earlier about which types more commonly overpower others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It depends. It’s not really a battle thing, though. It’s more that the majority of shadowcasters aren’t able to wield sand like I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can use sand? How? Can I see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Story for another time, kid. I can’t do it without Wilbur, and he’d rather gut you than be in a room with you right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looks concerned, “Prince Wilbur doesn’t like him, either? What the fuck is up with hi…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He trails off as both other Princes sweep into the room, silently accompanied by Dream. Tommy knows Schlatt will protect him, but that doesn't stop him from being scared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prince Wilbur raises an eyebrow at George, idly twirling sand around his fingertips, “You were saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George, Sapnap and the rest of the guards in the room hastily bow, and George quietly replies, “Nothing, your Grace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prince Wilbur smiles, akin to that of a ‘That’s what I thought’ sort of smile, and focuses on Prince Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The King wishes to see the runt at supper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt tuts, “That’s Prince Tommy to you, Wilbur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur sprays sand on Schlatt’s suit, “Unless I’m in my father’s presence, he’s nothing of the sort.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt scowls as Wilbur flicks sand at him again as he leaves, Techno following quickly behind with a vaguely apologetic smile. Dream lingers a little longer to wave at George and Sapnap, and then hastily follows after the princes when Wilbur starts shrieking down the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt quietly motions for Tommy to join beside Dream, but not before showing him how he spins the light sand into dark grains and then into shadows. Tommy’s fascinated, and Schlatt smiles and ruffles his hair, ushering him out of the guard’s quarters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You… care about him.” George says finally, after a moment of looming silence, “You care about Prince Tommy, Advisor Schlatt. Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt simply mimes the tipping of a hat and cloaks himself in his shadow, as he replies, “A lot of people have told me that I wasn't capable of loving, that I’m cold-hearted. I’m proving them wrong.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. With Fire, Comes... Bees?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tubbo and Wilbur :)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tubbo like da bee :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Contrary to popular belief, Tubbo didn't <em>hate</em> Prince Wilbur.</p><p>He was a terribly needy and incapable Prince, but it’s nothing Tubbo wasn’t used to. Tubbo had come from a kingdom of peace, but also one of sacrilege. The people were fond of their prayers to the Goddess, the one who (supposedly) gave all water elementalists their power. They praised the water, and revelled in it, which was expected, since the tiny isle it was located on was completely surrounded by water. </p><p>So one can imagine their disgust when Tubbo manifested <em>fire</em> at the age of just ten years old.</p><p>Elementalists like water, fire, earth and air usually manifested younger than magicians like Prince Wilbur, who apparently manifested a sandstorm at eighteen, and then never did so again. Tubbo never saw Prince Wilbur’s initial manifestation, having only fled to Princeshythe a few years ago, but for what Sapnap had told him, Prince Wilbur’s sand manifesting scared the majority of the shadowcasters from the kingdom. </p><p>“Oh, Tubbo! It’s been <em>such</em> an interesting day.” Speak of the devil. Tubbo reignites the fireplace with a careful flick of his fingers, and Prince Wilbur flops down into a chair close to it, warming his hands.</p><p>“Would your Grace perhaps wish to elaborate?” Tubbo inquires politely.</p><p>“Well, first off, there’s a new Prince, Tubbo. Phil just picked him off the streets! Can you imagine that? A dreaded street urchin as a Prince?”</p><p>“I suppose his Highness is very generous… Does your Grace not like the new Prince?”</p><p>“Of course I don’t! The runt tried to steal my guitar! Oh, and today he tried to drown myself and Techno!”</p><p>Tubbo's horror accidentally manifests itself when he ignites Prince Wilbur’s cloak, but Prince Wilbur waves him off when he tries to put it out, simply dumping a small amount of sand on it, brushing it off when the fire is out.</p><p>Tubbo apologises and quickly sweeps the sand away, and asks, “Is the new Prince… A water elemental, your Grace?”</p><p>“I believe so, Tubbo. I’m not sure how he did it so <em>effortlessly</em>, though. It’s like one moment I was telling Techno and Schlatt about how I didn’t like him, and the next he’d busted the door down, flooding the fighting pit!”</p><p>Tubbo wanted to curl up and sob. He’d only just gotten used to George, and now there was a royal water elemental? No doubt he’d run Tubbo ragged too. Princes were all the same, in his book. Spoiled rotten, and unbelievably demanding.</p><p>Prince Wilbur calmly strummed his guitar, and Tubbo became slowly at peace as he dusted. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was on purpose, but his fire softened to a gentle crackle in the fireplace, and he was soon almost dozing off where he stood.</p><p>Prince Wilbur, in an almost uncharacteristic act of mercy, quietly mumbled, “Tubbo, are you tired?”</p><p>Tubbo stifles a yawn as he responds, “A little, your Grace, but I’ve felt worse and worked through it.”</p><p>The Prince stands up and plucks the duster from the small boy’s hands, “Tubbo. You should rest. You can take the chair if you’d like. It’s almost supper anyway, and nobody will disturb you.”</p><p>Tubbo gives a sleepy half-smile, “Are you sure, your Grace?”</p><p>“... Certain, Tubbo.”</p><p>Tubbo settled into the chair by the fire. He watches through tired eyes as Prince Wilbur drapes a blanket over him and he hears the door shut with a <em> click </em> as the Prince leaves to join his family for supper.</p><p>Tubbo is asleep before the Prince’s footsteps have faded away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Planning another update for my birthday tomorrow since this chapter is pretty short, so stay tuned :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. A Discordant Note.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy's first meal in the castle goes... worse than expected.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Birthday chapter, as promised! enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Phil waits patiently at the head of the table, hands in his lap, for his three Princes to arrive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s pleasantly surprised when Tommy arrives early, although he sees the masked fear in the boy’s eyes along with the awe at the sheer amount of (albeit covered) platters on the table. He smiles softly and gestures to his left, and Tommy quickly sits, staring silently down at his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you enjoying the castle?” Phil asks softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-Yes, your Highness.” Tommy mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can call me Phil, Tommy. I doubt you’re comfortable with calling me Father like the others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy shyly glances up, although his volume is still quiet, and says, “I’ve never had a father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil carefully masks his anger, and simply replies, “Well, if you ever want one, Tommy, you know where to find me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, your H—Phil. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno arrives, on time as usual, and takes his seat to Phil’s right. He smiles at Phil, and Phil nods back, gesturing to Tommy’s whose head is still bowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, your G-Grace?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technoblade. Or Techno, as Phil and Wilbur call me. Tommy, did you learn anything from George and Sapnap today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looks up properly, and Phil’s heart lifts, but his head drops and he closes up again completely as Wilbur bursts into the room, ‘fashionably’ late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil makes his irritation known in his glare  as he watches Wilbur slowly walk to the table and take his seat beside Techno, and Wilbur glances once at Tommy, before mirroring the irritation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father.” Wilbur begins, disdain colouring his words, “Why is the—Why is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince Tommy</span>
  </em>
  <span> in my chair?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s his first supper here. I felt it necessary to seat him beside me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur scowls, “But </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur, why are you so hostile today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I don’t know, Father, maybe because you invited a </span>
  <em>
    <span>street boy</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What did </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> do to earn a title like ours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil glares, but it’s Advisor Schlatt that speaks from… somewhere. Schlatt could be anywhere in the shadows, but Phil doesn’t mind, having known the man long enough to trust him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> do to </span>
  <em>
    <span>earn </span>
  </em>
  <span>the title of Prince, Prince Wilbur?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur picks up his knife, but Schlatt’s shadows tighten around his hand, and he drops it with a hiss. Schlatt reveals himself, and he bickers with Wilbur, Techno occasionally chiming in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the commotion, Phil barely registers the scrape of a chair as Tommy flees the room. He calls out, and despite Wilbur’s protests, Schlatt offers to go after him, which Phil allows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns to Wilbur when the shadows dissipate, anger prevalent in his features, “Look what you’ve done. Is it too much to ask that you treat him nicely? He’s been a street boy for his whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Wilbur.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King stands, and turns to open one of the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, stepping out. Spreading his wings, he tests the wind, and just before he jumps, he utters, “Be grateful that you’ve always had everything handed to you. Not everyone is as fortunate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The window shuts with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang</span>
  </em>
  <span> behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two remaining princes eat in silence, and when they’re done, Techno stands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come spar with me. I know you want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off, Tech.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck off</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Techno.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brother sighs, “Suit yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur waits for Techno to leave before he puts his head in his hands, sobbing in frustration. Was this his fall from grace? Sometimes he wished he had wings, like his father. He wondered how freeing flying felt. He was sure it felt better than he felt right around now. His family probably hated him, Tommy probably saw him as a stone-cold bitch, Schlatt had always spat his words at Wilbur like they were poison, and <em>Goddess</em> knows how Dream felt about him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you asked Wilbur himself, he'd deny all knowledge, but rumour has it that there was another sandstorm that night.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So Wilby, huh? Smile.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Like A Candle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Long boy today :D</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There’s a boy standing over Tommy with a candle when he wakes up the next morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrambles out of bed, falling onto the floor with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The boy doesn't move to help him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, who are you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo. Prince Wilbur says you’re a water elemental.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s then Tommy realises that Tubbo isn’t holding a candle at all. There’s flame, sure, but it’s flickering gently on the tip of Tubbo’s finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re a fire elemental. Does this mean we’re friends?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like hell it does. You’re a Prince, and a water elemental. I’d rather spit on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… I, um… I’m sorry. Did-Do you have a problem with water elementals? George said you and him get on fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We get on fine because we know each other, and he’s Sapnap’s water elemental. Sapnap and I are friends. That’s it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… You hate me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate your kind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My… kind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Water elementals. Cineken was full of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shinny... Chinay… What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My…” Tubbo pauses, like he’s thinking of the word, “My hometown. It was a water kingdom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they kick you out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you always ask so many questions?” Tubbo snaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you always an ass?” Tommy bites back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little flame on Tubbo’s finger fizzles out in a rush of steam. He stares at Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I was scared of the flame, I guess—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>be scared</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>put out a fire elemental’s fire</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That’s not how it works.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I’m just a street kid. I didn’t even know I </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> water magic or whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo pauses, “How old are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I don’t know. I stopped counting when I got to a ‘teenager’ or whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you look around my age. I’m gonna guess you’re like, sixteen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo and Tommy stare each other down for a moment, and then Tommy speaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Truce?” He holds his hand out like he’s seen people do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo hesitantly takes it, “Truce. Hey, are you hungry? We don’t really do breakfast the way we do supper here, so I can bring you down to the kitchens with me if you’d like. I have to get breakfast for Prince Wilbur anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy perks up at the mention of food, and Tubbo helps him to his feet, “I’ll take that as a yes. C’mon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo pulls Tommy out the door and takes a right, hauling him down two sets of stairs, taking another right, and then down yet </span>
  <em>
    <span>another </span>
  </em>
  <span>set of stairs. There’s another flight of stairs, but Tubbo pushes a door open that opposes them, and the whole kitchen is full of life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo waves at a tall figure by one of the sinks, yelling “Hey, Sam!” over the ruckus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam smiles and moves over to Tubbo, lowering the volume of the room as he goes. When Sam reaches them, Tubbo gestures to Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you a friend of Tubster’s? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m, um…” Tubbo notes that Tommy looks vaguely intimidated by Sam, and steps in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam, this is Tommy, the new Prince I was telling you about, remember? We were both kind of hungry, is Niki around?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, you just missed her, apologies. The King requested her specifically.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we know if it’s a good thing?” Tubbo inquires worriedly, “Please tell me she’s not in trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t, but I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Niki doesn’t like being away from her kitchen for long. Says it knocks her confidence, you understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo nods solemnly, “Yeah. Are there any leftovers from yesterday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Sam can answer, Tommy chimes in, “Why is everyone else so quiet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam chuckles, “That would be me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He draws his hands in together, cupping them, and then flings his arms wide. The room goes silent and then bursts into a cacophony of clanking and wooshing and tapping. Tommy looks on in awe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam’s power is sound.” Tubbo gives a small smile of his own at the fascination on Tommy’s face, “He’s pretty good at volume control.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s freaking awesome! Can you, like, quiet people on their own?” Tubbo can almost see the gears ticking in Tommy’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, no. You got someone you wanna silence, Tommy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prince Wilbur. Schlatt says he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘rather gut me’</span>
  </em>
  <span> than be near me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good Goddess. That’s… Well, I can’t say it’s out of character, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed. He was pretty nice to me yesterday though, he let me sleep in the chair by the fireplace in one of his rooms.” Tubbo admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why he was late to supper yesterday?” Tommy asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made him late? Oh, Goddess, how selfish of me…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he didn’t mind. He burst in laughing about how ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>fashionably late</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ he was. And then of course he saw me, and decided he was going to not like me again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry that happened to you, Prince Tommy.” Sam smiles sympathetically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just Tommy? I don’t really fancy being called Prince if I don’t have to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Tommy, then. If it makes a difference, I’m in your corner. I’m the Head of the Royal Guard here, so there’s a defense should you ever need to use it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s pretty cool. So you’re like George and Sapnap’s boss?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo freezes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He knows George and Sapnap?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I sure am. Hey, Tub, don’t you usually wake Prince Wilbur up right around now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The realisation that he’s late sends panic right through Tubbo, and he skitters around the large kitchen, snatching various platters of breakfast foods before slipping down a servant’s passage, leaving Tommy with Sam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say, Tommy, do you need some new clothes? I’m pretty sure Niki’s friends with the family’s tailor, I can tell him Niki sent you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy glances down at his shoddily patched, too-small clothes and worn shoes, and nods minutely.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“His store is brightly coloured, one of the first ones you can see from outside the castle walls, you can’t miss it.” As Tommy makes to follow Sam’s instructions, Sam stops him in his tracks, placing a bag of clinking coins in Tommy’s hands. The bag has the royal seal on it, Tommy notes, so it’s less likely to be stolen. Tommy protests, and tries to hand it back, but Sam presses it firmly into Tommy’s hands, saying, “Keep it. That’s not all of my money, I keep it on me for these sorts of things. If you see something you like on your way, buy it. Genuinely. Walk the market to buy things for once in your life. I’m sure you’ll love it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy stares at Sam and beams in gratitude, before running off to find the tailor.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Maybe It Was Meant To Be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>:)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Despite the fact that the Ki-</span>
  <em>
    <span>Phil</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Phil had told him he was under ‘royal protection’, Tommy still tries hard not to be seen. He ducks his head when shopkeepers stare at him, he turns away when old women question him, he ignores the small children that pull at his tattered clothes. He purchases a loaf of bread with the coins Sam gave him, and he’s about halfway through, savouring the taste of fresh food, when he takes a wrong turn and ends up in an alley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy isn’t a small boy, especially not for his age, but the three boys that corner him in the alley are larger, and look meaner, and look like they might strip Tommy for all he’s worth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They certainly try.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Tommy doesn’t immediately register the gust of wind that both knocks the trio backwards and knocks the other half of the loaf of bread out of his hands, but he does watch as Phil lands neatly in front of him, standing and straightening his crown for good measure. The three boys stare at Tommy for a moment, take one look at what Tommy can only assume is the rage in Phil’s expression, and turn tail and flee. Phil lets them go, opting to turn to Tommy with concern painted on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, good Goddess, are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m, yeah, I’m fine, they just, um, they sort of…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They cornered you, huh?” Phil pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Well, they know not to mess with you now, eh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, and it seems to infect Tommy too, since he giggles along with him, despite the fact that he’s still shaken up. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Phil leads him out of the alleyway, one wing curled around him protectively, and Tommy is reminded of yesterday, with Schlatt’s shadows and the way they gave him the same feeling of warmth and kindness. He leans closer to Phil on instinct, trying to get closer to the source of the warmth, and although he doesn’t register it, he’ll realise later that Phil’s wing curls in as they walk, pulling him in too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>People stare, of course they do, he’s walking with the King, but he pays them no mind. He hears Phil give warm greetings and blessings as he passes, but says nothing himself, concentrating on the warm space between Phil’s body and the inside of his wing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They eventually reach the tailor, and just as Sam had told him, it’s as bright as the sun glinting off of Phil’s crown. A few days ago, Tommy would never </span>
  <em>
    <span>dream </span>
  </em>
  <span>of setting foot in this store. Now, he follows Phil right inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The store is deserted, and Tommy, suddenly anxious, shrinks against Phil, who’s closed his wings tightly to avoid knocking things over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” Phil calls out, and a tall figure in a red silk button-up and dark glasses pops their head out from behind a curtain.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Ah, your Highness, a pleasure to see you again.” The figure bows gracefully, and notes Tommy when he’s stood upright again, eyes lighting up, “I see you bring a young friend. I assume you’ve brought him here for some new clothing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On point as usual, Eret. This is Tommy. He’s, ah… Well, a Prince, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eret balks as if the King had just told him he’d started a war, “Liberal with your kindness as ever, King Philza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, certainly, Eret. So, you’ll take him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keeping my little corner of the fashion world alive as usual. Yeah, I’ll take him.” He addresses Tommy, finally, “Got a favourite color, Tommy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy thinks for a moment, “Blue. Like, um, like…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks Eret stares right into his very soul when he offers an end to his sentence with, “Like the ocean?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Eret pulls out a few differently coloured outfits, and while Tommy stares in confusion, Phil chuckles. Eret grins at him, and Tommy scowls slightly, irritated at being left out of whatever is happening.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Patience, Tommy. I think this is Eret’s favourite part of his job.” Phil laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would be absolutely correct, as per usual. Don’t go getting cocky with those wings of yours, though, your Highness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not while you’re down here patching up my torn cloak every time, Eret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both go silent, and Eret removes his glasses, holding a crimson, fur-lined coat up to one of the windows. Tommy watches, awestruck once more, as the cloak turns a pinkish-purple, and then purple, and then slowly more and more blue until the fabric is entirely blue. Eret silently turns Tommy around to face Phil, bringing the cloak to rest on his shoulders. He feels Eret step back from behind him, and they both watch Phil’s expression as he goes from being submerged in his thoughts to looking Tommy up and down and beaming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eret, you’re a blessing from the Goddess. I can’t thank you enough. You think you could do a couple outfits like that?” He gestures to the cloak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy hears Eret laugh from behind him, “Who would I be if I refused a task from the King? Not that it wouldn’t be my pleasure. Do you have the time to wait, or should I come by when I’m done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil ruffles his wings, and sighs softly, “You know that if I could stay, I would. Unfortunately I’ve been spread thinner than a gram of butter on a whole loaf now that I have three disaster Princes of my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy quietly protests, and Eret laughs again. Eret’s laugh, much like Schlatt’s shadows and that spot in the crook of Phil’s wing, gives Tommy the feeling of warmth, even if he isn’t anywhere near the tailor. He makes a mental note to revisit Eret’s little store.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil’s almost at the door when he snaps out of his reverie, and Tommy scrambles to Eret’s little counter, sparsely laden with bronze and silver coins. Tommy isn’t sure how much Eret’s time and effort is worth, so he leaves three gold coins on the counter among the silvers, and then bolts to catch up with Phil.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Phil almost strides through the square, and Tommy makes a conscious effort to keep up with him, but then he notices a small street boy, and another, and more and more children appear. Tommy gives and gives and gives from the small pouch until it’s empty, and it breaks him even more when Tommy sees them trying to share the coins, to allow everyone to eat. When Tommy glances at Phil again, his face shows sorrow and shame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Tommy catches up to him, he starts to speak again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not proud of the poverty here, Tommy, I hope you know that. I’m just spread so thin between maintaining relations, keeping Wil and Techno in check, and all sorts of other things that it just… slips my mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy doesn't respond initially, trying to think of what to say. Eventually, he comes up with, “I forgive you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Phil doesn’t reply, Tommy looks up at him in alarm, “I-I didn’t mean—I was just, y’know, since I know what it’s like—I’m just—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s caught completely off guard when Phil hugs him, and says, “I’m sorry you had to live like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It-It’s okay, Phil, really, I’m… I’m grateful you took me in. I’d just like to help those people who aren't as fortunate as I’ve been.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil releases him, and they continue walking. Tommy can see him thinking, so he doesn’t say anything, but when they reach the castle gates, Phil mumbles, “You’re a good kid, Tommy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re… Not a bad King, Phil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil laughs a little at that, but before he can answer, Schlatt materialises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does your Highness think it wise to give Prince Tommy some form of protection?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil hesitates at Schlatt’s formality, and then realises there are various guards around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed. Perhaps—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy interjects, “Can it be George and Sapnap? They taught me a lot, and I like them. Please, Phil?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sees Schlatt smile at him, and he can only assume Phil is too, as he says, “Of course, Tommy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt speaks just before Phil gives the order to call the two from their stations, and says, “What about Tubbo, as well? He’s around your age.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy hesitates, and he almost sees Schlatt’s face fall before he says, “Yeah! Tubbo’s pretty cool!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil catches a nearby servant, who quickly hurries off to find Tubbo. Tommy watches as Sapnap appears from nowhere, grinning sheepishly at Phil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I hear your Highness correctly? Are you assigning Tubbo, George and I to Prince Tommy?” Sapnap beams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil laughs and smiles knowingly, “Yes, Sapnap. Would you be so kind as to tell George? Because, of course, that’s not what you were going to do anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy lightly pulls at Phil’s cloak, and says, “Can I go with Sapnap?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see why not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy sprints to catch up with Sapnap, and when he glances behind him at Phil, he’s struck a conversation with Schlatt. The King notices him staring and offers a small wave, which Tommy returns, before catching up to Sapnap and plaguing him with questions.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. A Royal Discussion.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A conversation between the King and his Advisor... but also between two old friends.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Tommy’s out of sight, Phil makes his way back up the stairs to his rooms. In any other circumstance, he would have dismissed Schlatt and flown, but he can tell by the careful wording and formality Schlatt’s using that the man wants to talk to him privately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil smiles instinctively as several of the servants leave his rooms when he arrives, and he takes one of the two large, high-backed chairs, leaving Schlatt the other. However, Phil’s calm demeanour doesn’t seem to be rubbing off on Schlatt any time soon. The man seems frantic, and the only reason the </span>
  <em>
    <span>clip-clop </span>
  </em>
  <span>of his hooves as he paces doesn’t irritate Phil is the sheer fact that he’s known Schlatt for decades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, spill. What’s got you so antsy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know! There’s just something bothering me and I don’t know what.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not like you.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The pacing stops, and Schlatt shakes his head, “I fucking <em>know</em> that, Phil! No matter how hard I try, I just can’t figure out what it is!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, maybe we talk about the kingdom, and you’ll figure it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt stares at him, unimpressed, “Is this just another way to talk about your fucking day, Philza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both try hard not to laugh, but Phil cracks a smile and it sets Schlatt off. They’re in fits for a worryingly long time, and by the time Phil can speak again, Schlatt’s whole demeanor is, ironically, lighter. He laughs, and Phil goes on to talk about the castle, and then Tommy, and then he vaguely mentions flying, at which point, Schlatt interrupts him.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You’ve been flying again? When the hell were you gonna tell me about this?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Phil’s eyes widen, “Uh… Surprise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck, Phil?! Where have you been?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, not far? Wandering the forests, sitting by the river, I think Puffy’s place once or twice-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been to Puffy’s fucking kingdom without telling me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you’d be interested-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I’m fucking interested, Phil! That’s my </span>
  <em>
    <span>sister</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt freezes, and Phil blinks in surprise, “You told me you didn’t have anyone left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I don’t, I haven’t spoken to her since her coronation, I don’t know my family, I-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Schlatt, it’s fine. If you wanna talk about it…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt avoids the question, settling in the other chair, instead opting to question Phil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. Quencespire and Princeshythe have been allied for decades. Longer, probably. She remembers my parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt snorts, “Yeah, but didn’t your parents live to like, six hundred and somethin’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, yes, but don’t forget you’re also older than I am by a literal century.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off. You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> only just a hundred.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am too. I got the throne pretty early, all things considered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what the fuck did I get? A dead-end city-state that my uncle fucking killed before he fucking popped his cogs?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Phil bursts into laughter, momentarily forgetting that that </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>what happened to Schlatt’s little kingdom in the north. Schlatt tries to stop his laughter, interjecting with various protests and cuss words, until eventually he shouts, “Goddex damn you, Philza! You’re such an asshole.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Why exactly did you ditch Tenthouparkes, though? And how?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear I’ve told you this story. Goddess, you tell me </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>old. It was dying. I was a dumb fifty-something-year-old and my friends wanted me to travel with them. I was the older one, and the more powerful one, obviously. So I talked with some of the previous monarchs and they just… Dissolved my kingdom. Puffy owns some of the lands now.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Damn. You’re just a long line of monarchies, eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s gonna end with Puffy and I unless she picks an heir. Or an heiress, knowing her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if it does, there probably won’t be much war over her lands. She’s allied with a lot of monarchs. I think she mentioned the last King she has to win over… Ender-something or other? I can’t remember his name.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I know who you mean. The guy’s one of the oldest monarchs in history. Eight hundred-fifty-something, I think. He took the majority of my lands, from what I remember. It’s been, like a hundred-eighty years since then, so I could be wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good Goddess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. She’s gonna have to drive a pretty good bargain to win him over. Send her my… My regards, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil knows what he meant to say, and assures him the message will be relayed. He finally makes note of how unnatural the lighting looks within his rooms, and then realises how the light falls everywhere except on the man sitting in front of him. Phil doesn’t make mention of how Schlatt has swaddled himself in shadow, and he certainly doesn’t make mention of how much it makes him look like a sheep. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt doesn’t answer, standing and returning the shadows to their natural place, and the door’s closing before Phil can ask him if he’s okay. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Well, he didn’t climb up this tower on foot to have to walk down it again. He finds the nearest window, as he’s used to doing, opens it, and opens his wings, testing the direction of the wind. It’s blowing southerly, towards him, which isn’t an issue because he’s known for being King of the Sky, but it just means he’ll have less energy when he reaches his destination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>King Philza leaps from the window, and sets his sights on Quencespire.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Three, Your Majesty.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Queen Puffy is expecting someone, it seems, as she silently rearranges her place settings so that Phil can sit in on the meeting. <br/>“You’re hosting diplomatic relations with whom?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Queen Puffy is expecting someone, it seems, as she silently rearranges her place settings so that Phil can sit in on the meeting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re hosting diplomatic relations with </span>
  <em>
    <span>whom</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Phil questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“King Ranboo. You know him, surely, King Philza?” She murmurs politely, waving away a servant, and quietly acknowledging her ladies-in-waiting as they take up positions around her. To anyone who didn’t know Queen Puffy, they’d shrug her and her power off as a single Queendom in a world of Kingdoms. Phil knew better than to speak ill of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Queen’s crown is adorned with a variety of crystals, and against her chair leans a staff decorated liberally in them. Unlike the women around her, who are dressed in reasonable dresses, she wears the suit that has always reminded Phil of Schlatt; a royal blue two-piece, with a silver tie knotted neatly at her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs at the way Phil is studying her, and when he raises an eyebrow at her, she simply replies, “You found out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Found out what, your Highness?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Schlatt and I. He finally bit the bullet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, that he did. I assume it’s not common knowledge?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would be right, but that is none of my doing. I’ve never quite been sure what he’s doing with all the cards he was dealt at birth, but sharing them is clearly too below him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no malice in her voice, but rather an air of exasperation. Phil smiles, and she mirrors the gesture, before they’re both drawn to the sudden concentration of light that reflects off of the map, inlaid with crystals and set into the round table. For a moment, it fascinates Phil, who is accustomed to shadows and night, before a light, airy male voice speaks up from the set of doors behind Phil.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He stands to greet the newcomer, and is pleasantly surprised when Queen Puffy introduces him as King Ranboo, of Endesothames, the very King that he and Schlatt had mentioned prior to Phil’s departure from Princeshythe.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“King Ranboo. Pleased to finally meet you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yourself, King Philza, yes? Puffy spoke of you vaguely in her letter.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Phil returns to his seat, King Ranboo settling into his, and Queen Puffy touches a finger to each crystal set into the map, and they light up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gestures as she speaks, “Here is a map of this region. We each share a portion of it. King Ranboo, you own your lands, and those of the late King Schlatt’s, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other King nods, “Indeed I do. Am I right in recalling you owning a small portion of his lands, as well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would be correct. I own the eastern lands, whereas you yourself own the ones in the north, south of your own kingdom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continue to talk about land, and trade deals, and profit, which realistically shouldn’t bore Phil, but as usual, politics make him feel uneasy. Queen Puffy gives him subtle outs several times within her statistical recaps, but he simply smiles and tells her to continue, to pay him no mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unintentionally, King Philza comes to the realisation that he is, logically speaking, the child at the adult’s table here. It’s a rather disheartening realisation that he seems to have been cursed by the Goddex to have been born the latest of all the monarchs currently in power, but as he typically does, he dismisses the thought and tunes back into the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you can manipulate light?” Queen Puffy asks King Ranboo genuinely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can. I assume by the very colourful décor that the crystals are yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would be correct. I’m considerably worthless without these. I don’t leave my kingdom much because my power is, unfortunately, not as travel-safe as your own and King Philza’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other King turns to him, “Speaking of, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> your power, King Philza?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm? Ah, well, I would suppose they don’t call me King of the Sky for nothing.” He partially opens a wing, and King Ranboo smiles, clearly interested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can fly? How fascinating. Is it a genetic thing, or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil thinks for a moment, “Well, my mother was supposedly descended from a being not of the Goddess or Goddex’s creation. People often neglected to remember the God, Kismit, from whom winged people—my people—descended. Her specific bloodline was known for having winged females, but as far as I’m aware, she was the last of them with wings. There were more bloodlines, of course, as well as a variety of wing shapes, but my ancestors were constantly marrying into human families, so over time, their genes eventually became recessive and less common. It didn’t help that the families they married into clipped their wings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even Queen Puffy looks intrigued, if a little irritated, “Why were their wings clipped? Surely flight is an effective method of travel between kingdoms?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles wistfully, “It is, but the people of then didn’t see it that way. Their spouses saw it as a method of escape, and sought to, well, ‘contain’ them. My father, the King before myself, sought to end that way of thinking. My mother was very fortunate to be one of the rare winged humans that were actually able to fly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do folk still scorn you, King Philza?” King Ranboo chimes in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fortunately for myself, not any more. When it came to my coronation, those people who had prejudice towards my mother, and myself, when I was born, had reached the end of their life spans. There were only kind words from then on. I’m extremely fortunate to rule a united people who ebb and flow with the trends of the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Queen Puffy looks at him, and with bitterness not directed at anyone in the room, she says, “I wish he’d had that. Perhaps he’d still be ruling today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other King stares at him, confused, and Phil glances at Queen Puffy for permission to explain on her behalf. With a small smile, she gives him the go-ahead, and rises to stand and look over her kingdom out of one of the room’s stained glass windows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you remember King Schlatt’s kingdom…”</span>
</p><p>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>
  <span>King Ranboo leaves with the sunset, excusing himself with a laugh at ‘I’m descended from the sun god, I don’t exactly work well at night.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and Queen Puffy wish him safe travels, and the Queen sends guards along with his own to ensure his safe departure from her kingdom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’s gone, she dismisses her ladies-in-waiting and lets out a deep sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil gives a hesitant smile, which she returns. He starts to speak, “Your Majesty--”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She waves him away, “I’ve known you since you were a child. Call me Puffy, Phil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles, “Puffy, then. When was the last time you left your kingdom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The last time I left… Potentially when I got the letter that the King and Queen of Princeshythe had finally had a child, a son,” she smiles, “You.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s over a hundred years, Puffy! You’re telling me that you haven’t left your own borders in a whole century?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In my own defense, Phil, I don’t exactly have two heirs, do I? We can’t all be blessed with a happy marriage and children,” she bristles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He visibly flinches, and stands from the table, wings ruffling. “That’s not a fair argument and you are well aware of that, Queen Puffy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“King Philza, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moves towards the door, and before he leaves, he says over his shoulder, “And for your information, your Majesty? I have three sons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door shuts behind him before she can speak again.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Ruffled Feathers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Phil shakes his wings out, and says, “Have you ever heard the legends they tell about winged people?”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for the late chapter! I've been feeling a little under the weather so I was sleeping it off. Love you guys for sticking with me, enjoy the chapter! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The only thing running through Techno’s mind is ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dad is going to murder someone.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The castle erupts into a flurry of activity when the King returns, landing with an unusually loud ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span>’, and for the first time in forever, the halls are empty as the Princes walk down them. Princes, because Wilbur follows close behind him, and Techno turns to glance over his right shoulder at him constantly. Princes, because Tommy, having taken his adoptive brothers’ lead, has taken up a position at Techno’s left shoulder. Techno glances at Tommy too, but more to make sure the boy hasn’t fled in fear. All three wear their cloaks on both shoulders, and Techno wears his crown, his brothers their respective circlets. He isn’t quite sure why he has a crown when they don’t, but he thinks he remembers it being something to do with him being his father’s heir.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reach the throne room, but Techno hesitates, realising he has never had the courage to knock in these situations. Wil, as usual, reaches forward to knock, but the doors are blasted open in a gust of wind, and Techno, in a split second decision of trusting Wil to protect himself, unsheathes his sword and holds it out to his left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He catches Tommy’s flinch out of his peripherals, and as the wind dies down, the eldest prince throws him an apologetic look. He turns to his right to find Wilbur glaring at him, and Techno makes to level him with a glare of his own, but their father clears his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All three quickly straighten up, and they realise that the door to the balcony that looks out over the city is open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno falters, panicking, but he sees the way his father’s face softens and is calmed enough to take one step forward, then the other, with Wilbur (and, to the boy’s credit, Tommy) making small, encouraging comments as they walk in unison towards their father. He and Wilbur take up places on either side of their father, but Techno sees Tommy panic as he struggles to figure out where he’s supposed to stand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eldest prince lightly pulls on his father’s cloak, and the king turns around to guide Tommy to stand in front of him, hands resting gently on the boy’s shoulders. Techno finally notices Tommy’s clothes, styled similarly to his own and his brother’s, but coloured in varying shades of blue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eret did a good job,” he murmurs quietly. Wilbur shoots him a questioning glance, but Techno shakes his head minutely, focusing in on his father, who has begun to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Greetings, and Goddess’s blessings to you all.” Phil’s smile is infectious, and his people smile back at him, “It has come to my attention that many of you are concerned about who, precisely, this young boy is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gathered crowd murmurs, and although Phil doesn’t move to silence them, the talking soon dies down on it’s own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is an honour of mine to announce this young boy as Prince. He will be raised as such along with my own two sons,” Here, his father gestures first to himself, and then Wilbur, before continuing, “And should be treated with respect as such.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prince Technoblade is no stranger to anxiety, and he sees the way Tommy’s hands shake—not unlike his own—as he quietly conceals them underneath his cloak. He also sees the way Tommy flinches as Phil gently adjusts his circlet, and wishes he were just a fraction closer so he could comfort the boy. Tommy isn’t small—in fact, Techno would wager that the boy is only about an inch or two shorter than he is—but the way his form trembles makes Techno realise how terrifying this must be for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father speaks a little more, informing the people that the new Prince’s name is Tommy, as well as other formalities, before he once again gives the Goddess’s blessings and bids them farewell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as they’re out of the public view, Techno gently envelopes the boy in a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did good, kid, “ He says quietly, “You did good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he tries to move away, Tommy’s grip is like a vice. It surprises him pleasantly, since he remembers with a pang of guilt, that this kid has poorly healed skin and an absence of the nail on his thumb because of him, because of Prince Technoblade, the so-called "<em>O</em><em>rphan Obliterator</em>". </span>
  <em>
    <span>He must be so touch starved if he’s willing to hug me like this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kid—Tommy—You’re, ah, you’re crushin’ my ribs, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy pulls away hastily, “I’m-I’m sorry, I just… I’m not used to any of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were all like that, once,” Phil chimes in, “Even me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s surprise is evident, and in a moment of pity, Wilbur adds, “It’s fucking horrible, to feel like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a necessary evil, unfortunately. If I didn’t have to, believe me, I wouldn’t,” Phil admits, “It took decades to master my fear of people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had a fear of people? Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil shakes his wings out, and says, “Have you ever heard the legends they tell about winged people?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but… They can’t be legends, right? I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>have wings!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hook, line, and sinker,” Techno says, “But Phil wasn’t always respected like he is now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Tommy asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a story for another time, I’d say.” Wilbur mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop being a sourpuss, Wil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you, Tech—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boys.” Phil cuts in, “Can we not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur bites out a, “Whatever” as Techno says, “Sorry,” and grabs his brother by the fur of his cloak when he makes to walk out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get the fuck off me, Technoblade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and I need to talk, asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For Goddex’s sake—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Their father blows a soft breeze at both of them, and he lets go of his brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur lashes out in defense and almost gets sand in Tommy’s eyes, but Phil flings out a wing to shield him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hasty reaction makes the winged king flinch, and Wil’s eyes widen as his father’s right wing droops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad, Dad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Wil. Just… Techno?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The oldest glances up at his father, “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take Tommy, let him see the city. I trust you to protect him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy hesitates, and Techno says, “Look, kid… I’m sorry about what I did. I know it was wrong and trust me, I feel pretty fucking shitty about it. I don’t expect you to trust me, but… I can protect you. Prince’s honour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He notes Tommy’s soft smile, and although the boy doesn’t forgive him entirely yet, he knows that there’s some semblance of trust between him and his new brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances back at his father, who’s engrossed in conversation with Wilbur, before pulling the doors closed, leading Tommy down the stairs, and into the market.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. From Father to Son We Pass Our Stories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Hey, Dad?”<br/>“Hm?”<br/>“What do you know about the Gods?”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heard some of you were curious about the Gods 👀</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pulled muscles feel like dislodged feathers and a tingling sensation in his shoulder blades now, but Phil has a feeling that they’ll be much worse later.<br/>
He holds it together feasibly until the doors close behind the two princes, but sinks to the floor once he’s alone with Wilbur.<br/>
“Is… Is there anything I can do?”<br/>
“No. It’s muscle, it… It’s gotta heal on its own.”<br/>
“Isn’t there anything to keep it steady? You’re gonna knock it on stuff if you have to keep it outstretched like that, dad.”<br/>
“I’ll get plenty of rest, son, I promise.”<br/>
“What are you planning?” Wilbur asks him. Well, he never could hide much from his most observant son. Techno had an eye when fighting, sure, it was how he won most of the time, but Wil had the natural knack of reading people.<br/>
“It’s been a while since I let people through those doors. I think it’s time.”<br/>
“You’re injured. You can’t possibly—”<br/>
“I’ve been hurt worse than this, Wil.”<br/>
“Even still, you can’t just—”<br/>
“Wilbur. Trust me on this. I’ll be fine.”<br/>
“If you say so…”<br/>
His middle son leaves, and he quietly takes up his throne once more. He tweaks his wings so that they both sit in the same position, hoping to avoid suspicion, and waits patiently until the doors swing open gently.<br/>
Holding council with his people can be very peaceful. It can also be chaotic.<br/>
The one time he prays to the Goddess for peace, the Goddex smiles wickedly on him instead.<br/>
His people are restless, and some of their words have bitter undertones. He tries to answer as many queries as he can, but with no one he trusts by his side, the rapidly growing pain in his wing and the overload of questions, he snaps, blowing a strong, cold gust of wind that almost knocks some off of their feet.<br/>
The doors opposite him open a crack, and he watches Wilbur slink gracefully into the room, taking up his place at his father’s right side.<br/>
“His Majesty is feeling unwell. This session has ended. Please make your way out.” He says curtly, and nobody hesitates at the look on the young prince’s face, and the doors open to let them leave.<br/>
Wilbur turns to him once the room is empty, and stares him down, concerned.<br/>
“Dad.”<br/>
“I know, Wil.”<br/>
“Dad.”<br/>
“I’m well aware, Wil.”<br/>
“Then why the fuck would you say you’re okay?”<br/>
“I didn’t want you to worry—”<br/>
“Don’t give me that. What the fuck am I doing now?”<br/>
“... Worrying?”<br/>
“Fucking worrying.”<br/>
“What do you want me to do, Wil? It’s not like I can speed up the process of it healing.”<br/>
“Let me look at it.”<br/>
“You wouldn’t know what to—”<br/>
“She taught me.”<br/>
“Who?”<br/>
“Mother. Before she… Before what happened.”<br/>
“You were… Tiny. How could she have possibly…?”<br/>
“You both always said I was a fast learner.” Wilbur laughs, not quite harsh enough to be bitter, but not soft enough to be genuine, either.<br/>
“She taught you all of that… Because of me?”<br/>
“To a degree.”<br/>
“What do you mean?”<br/>
“It’s not important.” Wil says dismissively.<br/>
Phil doesn’t try and coax any more information from him. They sit in slightly awkward silence, Wilbur gently combing through his father’s wings, checking for any abnormalities or loose feathers.<br/>
“Hey, Dad?”<br/>
“Hm?”<br/>
“What do you know about the Gods?”<br/>
“The Gods? I know a little bit, why?”<br/>
“Y’know how we’re all apparently descendants of the Gods?”<br/>
“Yeah?”<br/>
“Which one am I from?”<br/>
Phil has to think for a moment, “Most likely the God of Knowledge.”<br/>
“Aren’t they the youngest?”<br/>
“Legend says that they were born after their fellow Gods because our—well, my—ancestors didn’t discover true knowledge until much later.”<br/>
Wilbur pauses, “Our powers come from the God that we descend from, don’t they?”<br/>
“Yes.”<br/>
His tone is quiet and reserved as he asks, “Can… Can you tell me the story about the Gods again?”<br/>
“Oh? Well, you might want to get comfortable—”<br/>
Hastily, Wilbur settles himself at the foot of the throne, folding his long legs underneath him and resting his head on his arms on the edge of the throne. It reminds Phil of when he and Techno were smaller. Wil would always beg his father to tell him stories. Techno had always feigned nonchalance at the start, but usually could be found curled up with Wil by the time the story ended.<br/>
“Are you sure that’s comfy, Wil? It doesn’t look it.”<br/>
His son shrugs, “It’s comfortable to me.”<br/>
“Well, then. The story of the Goddess, Bee, and her creation of Earth seems simple enough, but is much more complex below the surface. It began when the God, Kismit, bestowed upon her a planet that could hold human life. She was nervous at first, not wanting to anger the bright God, but quickly realised that her Earth was sacred, and special.”<br/>
“How special?”<br/>
“Very. Kismit had given her the only planet in his solar system that could support unique, human life.”<br/>
Despite having been told this story multiple times, Wil was always fascinated each time, and replied with a quiet, “Wow.”<br/>
“Yeah. But of course, with every bright, beautiful star in the sky, there’s the wide expanses of dark space that it rests upon. This darkness, as well as the moon, and many other planets, belonged to the Goddex.”<br/>
“They’re the one that made—That Schlatt comes from, right?”<br/>
“Shadowcasters, yes. The Goddex made their own colony on Mars, which had very similar qualities to Earth, but lacked the ability to support human life such as that of the Goddess’s Earth.”<br/>
“Didn’t the God love them, once?”<br/>
“Yes. It’s not common knowledge, since the older texts worked to conceal their relationship, but it certainly was a thing. If it wasn’t for their relationship, we wouldn't have solar and lunar eclipses, which many solar and lunar magicians rely on to strengthen their powers.”<br/>
Wil looks genuinely interested at this, “Why did they try to conceal it?”<br/>
“Ah, well nobody can say for sure, since they were gods, but many believed they had a very… intimate relationship.”<br/>
“Wait, you’re telling me that the every time there’s an eclipse, it’s just—”<br/>
“Again, a lot of it is heresay.”<br/>
Wilbur collapses into a fit of giggles, “The gods had se—”<br/>
“Wilbur!”<br/>
His laughter dies down a little, but he’s still giggling when he says, “Sorry, dad.”<br/>
Phil rolls his eyes, “You’re fine. Anyway, the Goddex hated that the Goddess had a planet full of life, and tried to seek revenge on her with the shadowcasters—people like Schlatt—and set their eyes on invading Earth.”<br/>
“They didn’t succeed though, right?”<br/>
“Not at first. They tried again and again, and again, even, before they realised that lightweavers—” Here, Phil thought of King Ranboo, but didn't mention the man aloud—“were permitted to enter the Goddess’s Earth, as they were deemed ‘pure’.”<br/>
“So what did the Goddex do?”<br/>
“They merged some of the God’s sunlight with their own power, and used it to send their people to Earth.”<br/>
“And after that?”<br/>
“Well…”<br/>
——————————<br/>
Phil’s story ends soon after he hears soft snoring at his feet, and not wanting to risk waking Wil up, he makes himself as comfortable as he can in the–thankfully, decently padded–throne. His wings hang gracelessly over the arms of the throne, and he finds sleep catching up to him not long after he gets comfortable. He quietly mumbles a ‘goodnight’ to his son, and closes his eyes, succumbing to the gentle embrace of sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Privacy is Privacy... Except When It Isn't.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>His brother looks at him disbelievingly, "I call bullshit."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A reminder that these chapters are pre-written at present. Things may change and characters may be taken out or exchanged for other characters (all within a smooth transition of the storyline of course). Thanks for sticking with me, you guys! It means a lot :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s pitch black when Wilbur is shaken awake, and his legs are numb.<br/>“Wil. Wil. Wilbur. Get the fuck up.” Schlatt hisses at him, shaking his shoulder so violently that Wilbur thinks that he can almost hear his bones rattling.<br/>“Hmm? Wh—What? What? What’s wrong?” Wilbur whispers back.<br/>“Go to bed, idiot. It’s past midnight.”<br/>He momentarily glances back at his father, now nestled up and asleep on his throne, “But dad—”<br/>“Your father will be fine. He’s slept in less comfortable places.”<br/>“Don’t know what that means, don’t care to know.”<br/>“Don’t use that fucking tone with me, Wilbur.”<br/>“What, the one that tells you that I’m sleep deprived and angry?”<br/>“Yeah, that o—”<br/>Schlatt cuts himself off abruptly, and offers a hand to help Wilbur to his feet. He leans heavily on the man, his feet and legs prickling with an uncomfortably numb feeling, and Schlatt helps him down the hall until he regains feeling below his waist.<br/>Wilbur turns to thank him, but when he does, there’s nothing but the moonlight streaming through the windows, casting his shadow into the floor behind him.<br/>He walks the rest of the way to his rooms alone, not bothering to look at which hallway or staircase he’s traversing. It’s been twenty-something years since he first started wandering these halls himself as a child. He knows the way to his rooms by heart.<br/>When he finally arrives, turning the handle and pushing the door open, he hears a low, rumbling voice from where Wil knows his bed is situated. <br/>He pushes the already open door wide, and sees his older brother sitting by a sleeping Tommy. A sleeping Tommy that was in his bed.<br/>Techno looks up, “Hey, Wil—”<br/>“Get out.”<br/>The other prince’s eyes widen, “He got lost, Wil, one of the servants found him here—”<br/>“Get out.”<br/>“Wilbur, he’s sleeping, I can’t just—”<br/>“If you’re strong enough to lift me, you can lift his skinny ass. Get him out of my bed.”<br/>Reluctantly, and with a sad sort of smile, Techno gathers Tommy in his arms. The boy stirs, eyes cracking open, and Wilbur sees the way he panics at not being firmly on the ground. As much as he tries to smother it, his heart aches for Tommy, and he stops Techno with a gentle hand on his shoulder.<br/>“Wil?”<br/>“... You know where the spare bedroom is.”<br/>His brother gives him a rare, gentle smile as he passes through the doorway to Wil’s room, and opens another door adjacent, reassuring Tommy that everything was fine, that he was in no danger, that he was safe.<br/>Techno stays in the room with Tommy for a while, but when he pulls the door half-closed gently, he takes a seat on one of the fluffed-up sofas in the centre of the largest of Wil’s four rooms.<br/>“So… What’s your deal? It’s not like you to be so defensive.”<br/>“I don't like people in my shit, Techno. You know this.”<br/>His brother looked at him, disbelievingly, “I call bullshit.”<br/>“What?”<br/>Tommy stirs again, and Techno glares at him.<br/>“I’m a private person, Techno. I would think you, of all people, would understand that,” Wilbur hisses in a hushed tone.<br/>“I understand privacy, Wilbur. Not scorning a child.”<br/>“I’m not scorning him.”<br/>“Oh really? Then what was that at dinner, a few days ago?”<br/>“He was sitting in my chair.”<br/>Techno pinches the bridge of his nose, exasperated, “Honestly… It’s a fucking chair, Wil.”<br/>Wilbur finally breaks his stare to focus intensely on the wooden frame of the door, “... It’s a very comfortable chair?”<br/>“That’s what I thought. Just… Try to be nicer to him, yeah? He’s a kid, Wil. And a pretty powerful one, at that. You know how that feels. The feeling of power that’s pent up, but the frustration at not being able to use it.”<br/>He can see his older brother looking at him with a softened expression, which is particularly rare for Techno, so he lets out a small breath and answers, “I’ll try.”<br/>“I’m glad,” Is the reply.<br/>He stands to leave, sharp claws almost touching the doorknob when Wilbur says, “Wait.”<br/>Techno glances over his shoulder, “Yeah?”<br/>“... Can you stay? For, um. For Tommy.”<br/>The look his brother gives him tells him that he was expecting a different question, but he moves away from the door and returns to the sofa nonetheless. Wilbur takes up the opposing sofa, curling up like he used to do as a child, and leans his guitar against the mantle to his left.<br/>They don’t talk about much. One of them says something about their childhood, or their father, or the castle, and the other chimes in with a laugh, or an anecdote, or something similar. Their lazy, back and forth conversation lasts for a few hours into the night, until Wilbur finds himself being the last one awake. His restless mind won’t let him sleep, so he drapes a blanket over Techno, pulls his own cloak tighter around his shoulders, grabs a lantern, and slinks off into the forest just outside the kingdom’s borders.<br/>The moon is about three-quarters of the way across the sky by the time he reaches the dense forest, and he should be turning back, going home to get some rest, or at very least should be returning back inside of Princeshythe’s borders, where he’s safe from most bandits or whatever could lurk in the unclaimed wilderness between his father’s lands and those of Queen Puffy and King Ranboo, but instead he ventures deeper in, determined to at least try and create that legendary sandstorm from his younger years.<br/>Which was exponentially more difficult than it sounded.<br/>After what he’s sure must have been an hour’s worth of trying, Wilbur decides that the fading light of the moon and the gradually increasing light of the sun is a good time to take a rest. After all, nobody steals in broad daylight.<br/>Or so he thought.<br/>The deafening silence send chills down his spine; something’s not right, somebody’s watching him, he has to go home, get away, return to the safety of Princeshythe—<br/>Snap. Crash. Thud.<br/>A crimson sweater fills his vision, and there’s a sharp pain that lances through the back of his head before his vision is swimming and the world goes dark.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Vive la Résistance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I think he will. Look at the clothes, the cloak, the—Is that a circlet?”<br/>“No disrespect, but what does that have to do with—Aaaand you’re taking it anyway.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My discord have been screaming at me... Are you happy now? Now you know. Now you KNOW OKAY—</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Damn it, Etho. We could have just talked to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man with mismatched eyes raises a questioning eyebrow, “You said—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Scar wants risk for reward. And he does. That doesn’t mean we had to knock him out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Etho studies the brightly dressed man, “D’you think he’ll do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he will. Look at the clothes, the cloak, the—Is that a circlet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No disrespect, Grian, but what does that have to do with—Aaaand you’re taking it anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The winged man studies it for a moment, before declaring, “It’s a circlet. He’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>royal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Etho. Scar’s definitely gonna want him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And this’ll be enough for our return?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On multicolored wings, Grian takes off, scouting out the distance between himself, Etho, their captive and the rundown cabin they’d set up in. There were no guards, as usual, and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, birdbrain! I’m guessing you want me to carry him?” Etho calls through the canopy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You're the brawn here, Etho, do your job!” Grian calls back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever Etho said next was lost to the wind as he soars ahead, calling out to Stress in a whistle that only she seemed to remember.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits a moment, pulling up a little, before he hears her familiar response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he lands, she greets him with a wave, before hesitating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t Etho go out with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did. He’s slower cause we, uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You what? Spit it out, Grian!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We found someone else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what did you do with them.” She gives him a condescending look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In my defense, Etho hit him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not another one.” Stress sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives her a sheepish look, and she waves him inside, waiting at the door for Etho and the royal he was carrying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally catches up to Grian, he locks eyes with Stress and she tuts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In my defense… Instructions unclear.” Grian hears Etho laugh nervously. Stress, despite her seemingly feminine form, was surprisingly strong, and takes the man from Etho with ease. He offers to sweep the perimeter, which she accepts willingly with a nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes off, and Stress leaves the stranger on one of the patched-up couches in front of the flickering fireplace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she turns on Grian again. “So you found him where exactly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh... Resting. Against one of the trees, out in the woods.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That makes this sound so much like a kidnapping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technically… It was?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Grian. We’re gonna be in so much—” She spots the gold band that he’s swinging lazily around his wrist—”</span>
  <em>
    <span>Is that a crown</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a circlet, but close enough. Still not sure what that means over here, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It means he’s most likely a prince, but not an heir.” Doc chimes in, reading from a worn book in his hand, “It says here, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘the monarchs and their chosen heirs on the Isle of Endlantis wear crowns, whereas any other royal family, such as princes and princesses, will likely bear a circlet upon their brow, but may opt to wear no headpiece at all’.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So he’s a prince… aren’t there multiple kingdoms?” Ren asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Grian who answers him, “Seems so. While we were watching him before.. Well, before Etho knocked him unconscious, he was muttering something about a… Princeshythe? And a Quen—Quence—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quencespire, yes.” Doc cuts in, “That one I know from memory. Quencespire’s royal lineage is known for having the features of either sheep, in females, or ram, in males. The same </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>said of another kingdom, although that one slips my mind as of present. Both are known for having monarchs descended from one ancestor, thousands of years prior, and for being ruled by the family ever since. Endlantis is a truly fascinating isle—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s cut off as Jevin and xB are chased from one of the back rooms by Impulse, who calls after them, scolding them for </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘tampering with his wiring</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ or something. Stress silences their brash laughter with a stare as the prince swears loudly, rubbing the back of his head. He doesn’t immediately register the group, who watch him with wide eyes and bated breaths, but when he does, he hastily stands, throwing his hands out in front of him in a makeshift defence. It does nothing to help his image, since he sways heavily on his feet, and Grian hastily moves to steady him and Stress pushes him gently back onto the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where the fuck—What the fuck—Who are you people? Is this a kidnapping? Am I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddex, you talk a lot.” Ren mutters. Jevin snickers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, fuck you! You people owe me answers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, we don’t owe you anything, really, but…” xB replies, not meeting the man’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Can you at least answer my questions? I’ll answer </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>of yours in return.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grian barks out a laugh, “I like you. Sure, we’ll deal in answers, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Who are you people?” His eyes flick around the room, finally fixing on Grian’s wings. The winged man shuffles them and tries to hide them from sight, to no avail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Resistance. And you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Wilbur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doc’s eyes light up, “You wouldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wilbur?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur eyes him carefully, “What’s it to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re well-known, considering we’re not even from this Isle!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... You’re from the mainland?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are </span>
  </em>
  <span>you Prince Wilbur?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then yes, we’re from the continent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Which kingdom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Voseytherlis. Yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Princeshythe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, Prince Wilbur of Princeshythe,” Doc gestures at each member in the room, “Welcome to the current location of the Resistance.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Keen Ears and Grieving Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy’s anxious gaze flicks between the two, and he interrupts with, “Is… Is it my fault?”</p><p>Phil’s eyes widen as he looks at Tommy.</p><p>“No,” he breathes, “Wilbur is a wanderer. He always has been."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What do you mean, he’s</span>
  <em>
    <span> missing</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Technoblade seethes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He—” Sapnap swallows nervously, “Dream watched him leave the borders, but has yet to see him return.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re telling me that Dream, Wilbur’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>assigned knight</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the only one </span>
  <em>
    <span>capable enough </span>
  </em>
  <span>to guard him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>left him alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” Techno shouts, hands gripping his sword tightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap gives him a wide berth as he paces, quietly replying with a “... Yes, Your Grace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno turns, taking several moments to calm himself before he says, “Has my father awoken yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guard looks like he’s about to start running any moment, and doesn’t respond. With almost perfect timing, Phil pushes through the doors into Techno’s rooms, Tommy to his right, and George and Dream flanking them. Techno breaks his gaze from Sapnap, but he notes how the man slides subtly towards the other guard and the knight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard you yelling from halfway across the castle, Techno. That’s not like you. What’s…” His father trails off, staring him in the eye and recognising the concerned look on his face, simply whispers  “... Wil?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must've gone out while we were sleeping. Never returned. Nobody’s seen him, not even a glimpse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s anxious gaze flicks between the two, and he interrupts with, “Is… Is it my fault?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil’s eyes widen as he looks at Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he breathes, “Wilbur is a wanderer. He always has been… He was given a personal knight for a reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here, Phil glances with a hardened gaze at Dream, who doesn’t meet his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My apologies, Your Majesty. This future was not the one I foresaw.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a questioning look and a calm wave of his hand, Phil dismisses Dream, George and Sapnap, leaving him with the two princes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno speaks then, “Tommy, this isn’t your fault, alright? Wilbur is…” He sighs wistfully, “Wilbur is just Wilbur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed. But right now, we need to concentrate on getting him back. Where was he last seen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The last sighting was when he left the kingdom’s borders, late last night. I didn’t get a chance to ask much more than that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll inquire around myself. Are you going out to look, or can I leave Tommy with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know the answer to that, Father dearest.” Techno laughs, and it sounds somewhat bitter, although it wasn’t meant to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well. Come along, Tommy, you’ll be coming with me then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door closes softly behind his father and brother, and he moves into another room, one full of weaponry, bows and axes and swords, carved and welded specifically for his use. He lifts out an axe, sheathing his ruby-studded blade at his hip. He leaves his long, crimson cloak, opting for a shorter travelling one, and then sets out, following what little clues he had and passing through the northern border into the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Deorum Silvam</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Forest of Gods</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was famed for having never been occupied by any kingdom, and seemed peacefully content to run itself. Techno wasn’t one hundred percent sure how it worked, most likely some form of ancient magic, but he respected it anyway. He remembers how Wilbur never deigned to learn it’s Latin name, opting to merely call it ‘The Forest’. It makes him smile. He always was more interested in Latin than his musician brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s snapped out of his reverie by rustling in the undergrowth. His axe is poised in his hand, ready to throw if need be. He’s not particularly fond of spilling blood, but he could potentially be throwing it at a kidnapper or two, so the spilled blood would be worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, a fox peeks out of the bush, tail swaying. It stares at him for a moment, seemingly analysing him, before hesitantly pulling a familiar yellow cloak from the underbrush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wil’s cloak? Huh. Now how did you get this…?” He murmurs, more to himself than the fox.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picks it up, and studies it for a moment, wincing at the large tear right through the centre, before looking back up. The fox is nowhere in sight, but in its place stands a man with fox ears, and mismatched eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did—Who—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Heh</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I’m not mistaken, you’re Prince Technoblade?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno starts as the man speaks, his voice light and airy, “Who wants to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me, duh!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Yeah, I am. What’s your name then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fox-man smiles, “Fundy. Usually known as Fox Guy, Fox Dude, etcetera. Pleased to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too, I guess,” He holds up the cloak, “Where did you get this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some guys dropped it. Is it yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My brother’s. Have you seen him? Tall, dark hair, circlet…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t, unfortunately. I’ll help you look, if that’s what you’re doing now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The extra pair of eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> be helpful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno sets off deeper into the forest, Fundy following closely behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, how'd you know my name?” Techno asks, eyes scanning their surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I originally lived in Endesothames, but King Ranboo’s people are… Freakishly tall. So I made my way down towards the south, and now I just sort of… wander the forest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno hesitates, “That doesn’t answer my question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quick-witted. I like it. I have a friend in Princeshythe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh. Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stand in silence, and then two pairs of keen ears pick up wingbeats. Despite this, it catches Techno off-guard when a man with red, blue and yellow wings tackles him from the sky, and it’s only down to brute strength that he pins the man down by said wings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ouch</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He whines, trying to push Techno off of him with his hands. It doesn’t work, but Techno releases him anyway, looking him up and down and pulling out his axe again, but as he watches how the man cowers at the thought of being harmed, and lowers it slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you and what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>heck</span>
  </em>
  <span> was that for?” Techno demands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good Goddess you’re strong. I’m, uh…” The winged man flicks his eyes around momentarily, before sticking his hand out, “Wilbur! Nice to…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Technoblade looks him up and down, smirking, “What are the odds that you share a name with my missing brother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Wilbur’ blinks owlishly, “Okay, hear me out—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>name?” Techno raises the axe and hides a wince as the man flinches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grian! Grian, my name is Grian.” He blurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Know where my brother is?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“U-um… About th—” Grian twists, slipping out of his grasp and taking a running leap, flapping his wings frantically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno swears loudly, knowing that even at his fastest, he wouldn't be able to catch up to the winged man with the denser foliage he can see deeper into the forest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns to Fundy, but even the fox has vanished. With a half-hearted sigh, Techno decides to turn back. He knows more than he did when he came out here, which is good enough for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s about a mile inside the border when Tommy calls out to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technoblade! Technoblade!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy? I told you to call me Tech—Wait why are you out here alone? That’s not safe—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know. But I really think Phil needs you… Needs… Us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy? What are you—Woah-kay—” He almost loses his footing as Tommy hastily grabs his empty hand and pulls him back toward the city.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eret’s standing on his doorstep talking to another person as Tommy pulls Techno down the street past his store. Both princes give him a short wave and he laughs, sounding somewhat confused as they breeze past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno decides not to shake Tommy off until they’re inside the castle walls, at which point Schlatt greets the two out of breath princes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you two just run a fucking marathon or something? Good Goddess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy dragged me from about three miles north, all the way through the village. Is Dad okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phil? Haven’t seen ‘m. I thought he’d gone out with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I went to look for Wil, he said he was staying here with Tommy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look for Wil? Isn’t he up in his rooms?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An awful moment of silence cut through the conversation, and it’s Tommy that answers Schlatt in Techno’s place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur… went missing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt’s calm demeanour shatters like glass, “He </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s been gone since late last night. Dream watched him go out past the borders.” Techno replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the bitch didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>follow him</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna fucking throw him </span>
  <em>
    <span>out of a window</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Schlatt half-turns before Tommy grabs his arm, “Kid, let go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-It’s not Dream’s fault—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>let go</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” A wave of rippling shadow flies out in all directions, forcing Tommy backwards. Techno catches him before he falls, and stands with his hands on the boy’s shoulders as the unnatural darkness dissipates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a moment of stunned silence when the sunlight hits the princes’ faces again, and Techno thinks that if Tommy wasn’t here, he’d lay into Schlatt himself for scaring the boy. As it stands, the man stands there, staring at his own hands in shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Technoblade clears his throat, and merely says, “You should watch your anger around me, Advisor Schlatt. If you should </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>lay a hand on Tommy again, accidental or otherwise, you’ll be on a one way trip off of this island.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt lets out a nervous laugh, giving a half-bow before straightening up again, “My apologies, Your Grace. I’ll keep my anger in check. Apologies to you as well, Prince Tommy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy doesn’t respond, but Techno levels him with a stare, “You’re dismissed, Advisor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt leaves without a word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno then turns to Tommy, “Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m… I think… I think I’m okay, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wanting to take Tommy’s mind off of the interaction, he asks, “You said Phil needed us, yeah? Mind taking me to him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! He’s up in his rooms, I think. They’re huge! Does—Do you have rooms like that?” Tommy questions, skipping toward the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno follows close behind him, “Not quite. Mine and… Prince Wilbur and I have fewer rooms than our—Than Phil. You have your own rooms, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! There’s this first room, with a tambourine in it, and then my room, through a door, and then there’s…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno lets Tommy ramble about what he’s seen in the castle, who he’s met, and what he wants to see. He seems to be fond of Tubbo, and Techno gives a half-smile at the way Tommy talks about the servant boy like they’ve been fast friends since childhood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They arrive at their father’s rooms, and George and Sapnap both stand outside. Their worried expressions makes Techno anxious for what he’ll find inside, but Tommy squeezes his hand lightly as the young prince knocks for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a muffled, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Whom</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”, to which Techno replies, “Tommy and Technoblade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Come in</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>boys</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Their father replies, and Tommy smiles at the guards outside before opening the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their father faces away from them when they walk in. He doesn’t make a sound, nor does he turn to greet them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno clears his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, sorry. Is… Do you need something, Techno? Tommy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king still has yet to turn, and the Princes share a look of worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, we don’t need anything. Are you… Okay?” Tommy questions hesitantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, thank you. Not to be rude, boys, but if you don’t need anything, why are you here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's then that Techno remembers the bundle of sunny yellow fabric under his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, ah… Found this—” He offers it carefully, and his father glances at him, before doing a double take.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes it from Techno’s hands and holds it out, before gasping at the slash through the centre. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He breathes, “It’s not possible. It-It’s not possible, he’d protect himself, there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>no way</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad—Dad, he might not be—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Look at it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Techno! What could possibly have saved him from a blow like that?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way the king whirls on them has no effect on Techno, who has faced worse than his angered father, but Tommy hides behind him in fright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno manages to keep his cool as he says, “Tommy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A squeak from behind him tells him that the young boy is listening, and he continues, “I think it would be beneficial if you went and practiced your water wielding right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ye-Yes, Technoblade.” He all but sprints out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s gone. He’s dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, it’s fine, I will—I'll move on, it’s okay—” His father is pacing now, Wilbur’s cloak gripped firmly in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll have to announce it. The kingdom will have to accept his death, mourn it even—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s not dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Techno cries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time seems to pause for a moment. His mind tumbles over itself in an effort to explain what he knows, and the man in front of him doesn't quite know what to do with himself, mouth opening and closing like he doesn't quite know what to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Techno plucks out the words from his head, “I think he was kidnapped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil is quiet, reserved, when he asks, “Why do you think he was kidnapped?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moves across the room, taking up the armchair opposite to his father, who returns to his seat, listening intently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I went out to the woods, I came across a fox. Long story short, I turned around, and the fox was a man with ears and a tail. Fundy, his name was. Said he has a friend in the city.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Then</span>
  </em>
  <span> I was tackled to the ground. From the sky. This guy had fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>wings</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Phil. Bright ass wings like a bird from the tropics. Anyway, he tackled me, I held him down and asked for his name, and the motherfucker had the </span>
  <em>
    <span>audacity </span>
  </em>
  <span>to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Wilbur isn’t an uncommon name, Tech—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But for him to stutter, look around, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>then </span>
  </em>
  <span>declare it? Plus, Wilbur’s been missing for less than a day. It was too much of a coincidence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you got his real name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s… Not a name I recognise, but we can work with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno gives his father a look, and snorts, “Yeah, sure. ‘Work with it’ he says.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Techno.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where was this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh… Middle of Deorum Silvam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The forest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Dad. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>The Forest</span>
  </em>
  <span>’.” Techno mocks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not your enemy here, Technoblade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not yours either, Philza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno cracks a slight smile in response, which in turn makes Phil laugh. Techno rarely laughs, but he knows the open display of joy means a lot to his father, so he laughs a little longer than he means to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When do you want to make the announcement?” Techno inquires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That he’s missing? Not yet. If he’s still not back in a week’s time, then word will be spread.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. But I have to make decisions, Tech. No matter how much it pains me to make them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a quiet moment as they both remember the boys’ childhood. Techno wouldn’t be surprised if Wilbur’s pained cries were embedded in his father’s memory. They certainly were in his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The heir to the crown of Princeshythe lets out a breath, and leaves his father with a heavy heart and a whirring mind.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Run Fox, Run</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prince Technoblade turns to his father, “Father.”</p><p>“Yes, Techno?”</p><p>“Father dearest, I don’t believe I’ve ever visited the mainland.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sprinting was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>his strong suit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t help that his shapeshifter friend could slip in and out of his fox form as easy as breathing; Fundy, as a fox, could push through gaps that Eret, as an almost seven-foot human, couldn't even </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breathing was ragged, his lungs were on fire, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinks</span>
  </em>
  <span> he might be losing oxygen to his brain, but to be separated from Fundy in the dense woods would be a death sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fundy!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He calls ahead, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fundy, you’re running too fast!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>We have the chance to save him, Eret! I’ll never be able to live with myself if I don’t </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>try</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>If we get separated, we’re as good as dead!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s an audible </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump </span>
  </em>
  <span>ahead of him as Fundy sets his feet solidly on the ground. He doesn’t look happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know. But what can we do? I’m basically a reverse chameleon and you’re a fox. We’re no match for whatever they are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fundy seems to pause, and after a moment, he sighs, defeated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. But some part of me—Some </span>
  <em>
    <span>crazy</span>
  </em>
  <span> little desperate part of me… Hoped that we could save him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We may not be able to save him, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fundy whips around at something Eret doesn't hear, but they both watch as a man with multicolored wings bursts through the treetops, another body in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grian. His name is Grian.” Fundy cuts in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Fundy’s already taken off running, diving into fox mode and vanishing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eret is torn. On the one hand, Fundy could get seriously hurt, and might need backup. On the other hand, if he called the royals’ attention, called the </span>
  <em>
    <span>King</span>
  </em>
  <span>’s attention… The King could fly. But it would be too late, and the King’s wings weren’t built for overseas travel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drawing a scalding breath into his lungs, Eret takes off after Fundy once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—&lt;—&lt;—&lt;—&lt;—&gt;—&gt;—&gt;—&gt;—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Highness! Your Majesty!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s rare for them to hear Dream’s voice, let alone his </span>
  <em>
    <span>raised</span>
  </em>
  <span> voice, so both Phil and Technoblade look up as he bursts into the drawing room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream? What is it?” Phil asks politely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We had word that the royal tailor and a friend of his had taken off into the forest, so we—” Dream struggles for breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a moment. Eret and a friend of his? But Eret has never even expressed interest in the woods before…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you’d say that, Your Majesty. Shortly after they left the borders, two guards that followed them reported someone leaving Endlantis, headed towards the mainland.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But the Isle is landlocked, and the only docks are inside each kingdom’s borders—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which means the only way to leave from the forest is to fly.” Techno cuts in, “Dream. They were flying, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reportedly so, Your Highness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prince Technoblade turns to his father, “Father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Techno?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father dearest, I don’t believe I’ve ever visited the mainland.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose we can pay a visit. Dream, would you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call Schlatt?” The goat-man materialises. It makes both royals startle, although Dream, who likely foresaw the man appearing, simply nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to see you again, Advisor Schlatt.” Phil smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you, King Philza.” Schlatt returns the gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe only yourself and Tubbo will be required for this trip, Schlatt. As well as Prince Tommy, of course,” Phil then turns to Dream, “Is there any fault you perceive in staying behind here, Dream?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a moment of silence as Dream’s bright, green eyes flash white, and then return to their usual hue, before he answers, “My apologies, Your Highnesses, but my ability does not seem to be able to see into that particular future.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream… Has your ability been faulty lately?” Techno steps in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knight looks vaguely alarmed, “I-It would seem so, Your Highness. Again, my sincerest apologies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps it is best for you to accompany us after all, Dream. Now,” Phil hums, “Best pack your bags. We leave at sunrise tomorrow. That goes for you two, as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy and Tubbo peer around the door in unison, smiling sheepishly. Tubbo steps out, and bows, while Tommy slinks out behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Phil,” Tommy murmurs, at the same time as Tubbo says, “Sorry, Your Majesty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s quite alright, boys. We’ll be going overseas for a while. Is that okay with you, Tommy? Tubbo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Overseas?” Tommy asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Schlatt that replies, “Overseas. This place is just an island, y’know. There’s a lot more over on the mainland.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… Well, we wanna see! Right, Tubbo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo looks up nervously. The adults in the room, as well as Tommy, are all taller than himself, and he stumbles over his words in an attempt to make himself known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are-Are we, um, are we going to, uh—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt and Phil give one another a concerned look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not going to Cineken, Tubbo,” Schlatt says calmly, “We’re going to the mainland. We’ll most likely stop in Voseytherlis, since it’s the nearest port from here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Dream. Would you mind escorting the boys to pack? We’re unsure how long we’ll be staying, so a month’s worth of belongings wouldn’t hurt.” Phil asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo’s quiet objections of, “I don’t have that many belongings,” goes unheard, although Tommy bumps the back of his hand against the other boy’s elbow as if to say, ‘Neither do I. It’s okay.’ The whole interaction, in fact, goes unnoticed, as the adults of the room are discussing travel, and accommodation, as well as the geography of the mainland. A throne room full of educated adults was no place for a servant and a streetboy-turned-prince. In the hubbub of their discussion, two boys slip away into the bustling hallways of the primary residence of Princesythe’s royal family.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Make Your Peace With Your Past Or Kiss Your Future Goodbye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“It’s not your fault.”</p><p>He laughs bitterly, “Then whose is it? Everything I love has been marred or stolen or corrupted beyond belief. No matter how safe I believe my kingdom is, my people will still have fear.”</p><p>“And that is just life. The world will still contain it’s strife. Our job is simply to emerge each morning and decide which part of it we are willing to tackle today.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dream stands silently as Tommy and Tubbo put their limited belongings in the little leather suitcase that Tubbo had brought with him when he fled Cineken. Neither boy had enough to fill one bag, so they simply placed their belongings in together and agreed to take turns carrying it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo and Tommy were by no means friends, but they didn’t despise one another either; they simply saw something familiar in one another and that was that. Nobody really questioned it, especially if they knew what both boys had been through, which not a lot of people did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can feel his eyes flickering, green-white-green-white, before he sees Phil and Schlatt ascending the stairs flash at the forefront of his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boys. The King is on his way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy and Tubbo pause, and then hastily clasp the case closed. Tubbo picks it up, allowing Tommy, as his hierarchical superior, to go first. Dream can sense how uncomfortable the action makes Tommy, and although he can’t do anything about it, he does allow Tubbo to walk in front of him, escorting the boys from behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s immediate vision is, thankfully, still flawless, because the King and his Advisor arrive just as he expected them to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream.” King Philza gives a strained smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Majesty.” Dream replies with a swift bow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt barely acknowledges him with a curt nod, and Dream does the same in response. They typically say like calls to like, but in this situation, Dream is nervous of the power this ex-king holds, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>since his visions seem to only be predicting the immediate future at present.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you boys packed?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Phil.” Tommy replies hastily, while Tubbo gives a quiet, “Yes, Your Majesty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” He glances at the window, as do the rest of the party. The sun is going down, it’s golden rays reflecting off of the King’s crown and Tommy’s circlet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Everyone go and get some rest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> includes you, Tubbo, and you, Dream, by the way. You’re all travelling tomorrow, and you’ll need the rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a stern glare, the gathered party scatters, Tubbo hastily following Dream back down the stairs to the guards’ station.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy stands there awkwardly, his eyes flicking around the hallway repeatedly and then focusing back onto Phil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh—Y-yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should rest too. I can’t imagine you’re used to travelling by ship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By ship? You mean- Like the huge ones with the green, yellow and red sails?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well—Kind of. Most of them have plain sails, with the family’s crest on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Each family does generally have a crest. Princeshythe’s is forest green, with a pair of spread wings on it. My father changed it. I agree with his design choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Tommy tries to form another sentence, perhaps a question, but a yawn works its way past his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rest. Goodnight, son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil sees the way Tommy freezes, and although he doesn’t take back his words, he somewhat wishes he had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good-Goodnight. Um. Goodnight, Phil. Schlatt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the moment, Phil had completely forgotten his advisor by his side. Schlatt simply nods, and Tommy slinks backwards into his rooms, shutting the door with a soft ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>click</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see you smirking at me.” Phil mutters when they're slightly further from the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt stifles a laugh, “I’m-I believe I’m well within my rights to laugh, your Majesty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, the laughter of one infects the other. Phil fights to keep his appearances until they reach the top of one of the towers. The atmosphere all the way up here is peaceful, and no servants have set foot in this tower since the previous King and Queen were wed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re finally ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil takes a moment, staring out at the steadily setting sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been almost two decades… I think even those with prolonged life spans like you and I need to accept that sometimes we just... don’t get closure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sucks, doesn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but… I owe it to them all. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>to Wil. I wasn’t the only one who lost her that day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s always struggled with loss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Losing a mother at such a young age is detrimental to any kid. And she taught him so much of what he knew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Knows</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s not dead and you know it.” Schlatt insists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tentative lull in the conversation as Phil turns to him doesn’t stretch, but it does go on for just a beat too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Do I</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” The hushed tone and the flickering fear in his eyes is something Schlatt hasn’t seen in this man since he became King. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deep down, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you know</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Philza Prince-Hythe, that your son is kicking up a fucking storm against whoever dared lay a hand on him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil gives him a look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my bad,</span>
  <em>
    <span> Your Majesty</span>
  </em>
  <span>, do you not like being full-named?” Schlatt mocks lightheartedly.</span>
</p><p><span>“No,</span><em><span> Jonathan</span></em> <em><span>Jebediah</span></em><span>, I don’t.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Okay, that’s not fair—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes it absolutely is, you used mine first, you prick—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay but </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> names were absolutely not necessary—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why do you still </span>
  <em>
    <span>use</span>
  </em>
  <span> them—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, children. Neither of you like your full names. I think we established this seemingly eons ago.” A familiar, female voice chimes in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both men have different reactions; Phil, on the one hand, turns and greets Queen Puffy with a warm smile and an embrace; Schlatt, on the other hand, freezes in place, his face white as marble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“P-Puf-Puffy! It’s-It’s been a while—” Schlatt begins to ramble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ignores his words, and pulls him in to hug him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No offense to you, but shut up, JJ.” She says into his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop calling me that.” He mutters in response, glaring at a snickering Phil over her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, there’s a comfortable silence, before Phil says, “So, why are you here? More importantly, how did you get up </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Silly bird boy. You forget I’m much older than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A hundred years is not a long time—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m three hundred and two, Philza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Besides the point. You didn’t answer my questions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m up here because I was walking these halls before you were even a thought in your parents’ minds. I’m in Princeshythe because someone told me to get out more.” She gives him a knowing look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt looks back and forth between the two, before settling on Phil, “What the fuck did you say to my sister, you asshole?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He gave me some very valuable advice, brother dearest. You needn't worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt’s eyes narrow, before he leaves the tower entirely in frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both King and Queen share a nervous glance toward the door, before Phil catches Puffy’s attention once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you really here, Puffy?” He says quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Word travels fast, Philza. Especially about young Princes.” She holds his sorrowed gaze, “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes close, and his head bows. “Me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re leaving tomorrow, if my sources aren't mistaken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They're correct. Will you be joining us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then, lest I sound terribly condescending… You should rest. No doubt your journey was tiring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have suffered far more tiring things. I ventured up here to give you someone to talk to. They said Schlatt would be up here. I know he’s terrible with emotions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose you of all people would know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs, “Indeed,” her voice softens, “Is he alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... I know he’ll never admit it, but he had—</span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span>—a soft spot for Wil. This… this has hit him as hard as it has hit me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Puffy doesn’t respond, choosing instead to gaze out of one of the windows. Phil joins her, and they stand side by side in comfortable silence. There are small, glowing lights flickering to life down below as the night market slowly comes alive, and briefly, Phil contemplates going to explore it. He hasn’t set foot in the market without protection for decades, not since he was a young, flightless child, unbothered by the laws and economics that come with ruling a kingdom. He can’t recall the last time that he spent more than a few minutes among his people, listening to their worries and their questions. No wonder they were so on edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gentle hand falls on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs bitterly, “Then whose is it? Everything I love has been marred or stolen or corrupted beyond belief. No matter how safe I believe my kingdom is, my people will still have fear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that is just life. The world will still contain it’s strife. Our job is simply to emerge each morning and decide which part of it we are willing to tackle today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Puffy departs then, leaving him to the cacophony of his own thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cacophony. Because good Goddess there were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so many of them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>how was he supposed to get Wilbur back</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is Wilbur even alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
  <em>
    <span>And what about Techno</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy? If he focuses on one son too much, jealousy will breed between the others</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This isn’t even the first time someone has been stolen from him. It’s been twenty-three years, but he remembers her as if he’d seen her when he awoke this morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He smiles, “What are you planning today?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She doesn’t face him, but continues to breeze around their room, righting the lantern that had blown over in the storm overnight.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not sure yet. Maybe the market?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ve been twice in the last week. Surely you’re tired of the same ten or twelve stalls?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But that’s just the thing. They’re not the same ten or twelve stalls. They change. Each vendor is a new face to befriend, and each section of the market brings wonderful new experiences.” She turns, then, her eyes full of wonder, “When was the last time you left this stuffy old castle, Phil?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You know it isn’t that simple, Kristin.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But why not? You can </span>
  </em>
  <span>fly</span>
  <em>
    <span>! You could go wherever you wanted.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have responsibilities. Plus, what would it say to the rest of the kingdom if I just wander through its streets unprotected?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It would show them that you’re not a glass house.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not a glass house—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This whole family is a glass house. You barely leave, Techno can’t even look people in the eye, and Wilbur's like a loose canon.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re five and two. Techno’s just shy, and Wilbur’s sensitive because of his… You know.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It would help if you let them grow.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I will not have my son subjected to the torment and misery—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Our son.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It doesn’t matter whose son he is! I have good reason to keep him sheltered. Maybe you should learn to respect that!” Phil’s wings flare threateningly, but he hastily clamps them closed once he sees the hurt expression on her face.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The silence that looms is deafening. It goes on for too long, and the tension between them pulls taut, crackling like live wire.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fine. You want respect? You can have it.” She picks up the lantern, lighting it. She spares him one final, sombre glance before the door shuts, and whispers, “Sorry I got in your way, Your Majesty.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a shaky feeling in his whole body, and he drops to his knees on the cold stone. Even if one of his wings wasn't feeling like someone had hit him in the back with a brick, he’d be unable to hold them both up. They droop miserably as quiet sobs rack his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He misses her so much.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The Prince... and The Parrot?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A pause, and then, “Why do you seem surprised that I know what preening is?”</p><p>“I… I haven’t met someone with wings… ever. Never knew my parents, or family, and people on the mainland are… Less than kind to those with non-human features.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“It’s fine, really. I went a long while without being able to fly properly before I met Kore. Years, maybe a decade or so?”</p><p>“You couldn’t fly for ten years?”</p><p>“Not long distances. The amount of times I’ve gone tumbling into that ocean is… A lot.”</p><p>“You can fly now though?”</p><p>“I wouldn't have flown you myself if I didn't think I could.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i should be in class right now but... eh.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Prince, despite technically being a captive, would not shut up.</span>
</p><p><span>Doc had tried getting him to </span><em><span>stop</span></em> <em><span>swearing</span></em><span>, Ren had tried to get him to calm down and Etho had tried to bore him to death. </span></p><p>
  <span>The only person that the obnoxious prince would fall silent for was Grian.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>None of them could tell whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, but it was a moment of blissful silence for all, so they didn't dare question it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur had negotiated his way into having just his hands bound, which he claimed disabled his power. What that power </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they had no clue, but he had yet to try and murder one of them—unless you count him almost knocking Grian out of the sky as he fought to get loose from the man’s grip over the middle of the ocean—so they took his word for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are we?” He demanded, over and over, “If you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> me I’m going to keep asking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to know.” Doc brushed him off, turning the page and making notes in the margin of a book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not a fucking reason. Give me an answer or else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or else what? You’ll call father dearest to come get you?” Doc spares him a withering glance, “I’ve told you time and time again to stop swearing. You’re royalty. Act like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when were you the expert on royal etiquette?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A stack of books is dropped neatly on the table where Doc is currently writing, and Grian replies, “Since we met a Queen a few years back and she told us how her King never listened to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doc stands, taking his notebook, quill and the stack of books that Grian had delivered, and ducking through the doorway. The doors here in Cineken were made for its people, who were considerably smaller in stature than those on both the mainland and Endlantis, and Doc had knocked his head several times on door frames and such, to the point where it was rare to see him not duck through a doorway, large or small.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur watches him warily. Or, rather, watches his wings. Grian’s unsure what the fixation on his bright plumage means, but he’s hoping to get answers before they set off again for Voseytherlis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It looks like he’s in luck today. The curious glint in the prince’s eye after he mentioned a Queen hasn’t gone unnoticed, and he intends to enquire upon it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignores the chair entirely, opting to lean against the table, draping his wings over it lightly. Again, Wilbur watches every twitch and slight ruffle of the feathers. It’s somewhat… Eerie. So he decides to initiate the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How have you been, Wilbur?” He asks politely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur simply lifts up his hands, “Could be better. Y’know, not kidnapped and all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough.” He chuckles, “So, you’re Princeshythe’s prince, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My brother. Brothers, technically.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna talk about them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Not particularly. Neither of them pay me much attention. You’d think I was diseased.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any particular reason why they’d avoid you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alrighty.” This time, Grian carefully spreads one wing and watches as Wilbur’s eyes hastily follow it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there something in my wing?” He questions after a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They lock eyes, “... They need preening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grian is genuinely shocked, “You know what preening is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... You don't know who the King of Princeshythe is, do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My birthplace is Voseytherlis. The Isle is… not widely spoken about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grian sighs, “Voseytherlis’ King is… Well, he's not the most… welcoming of magic users. The mainland generally doesn't teach of your isle, nor your Kings or Queens. I only really know who you are because of—” Realising what he’s about to give away, he clamps his mouth shut quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur stands, “Because of who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grian shakes his head, “I don’t have her permission to tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her </span>
  <em>
    <span>permission</span>
  </em>
  <span>? What are you, some sort of servant?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good Goddess, no. She despises the idea of royalty. Not sure why though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur leans forward, elbows braced on his knees, “How did you meet her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was some ten, fifteen years ago. She seemed very distressed, and somewhat… Lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lost?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We met her very much in the same place we… ‘Found’ you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure you can’t tell me her name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... She liked to go by Kore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pause, and then, “Why do you seem surprised that I know what preening is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I haven’t met someone with wings… ever. Never knew my parents, or family, and people on the mainland are… Less than kind to those with non-human features.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, really. I went a long while without being able to fly properly before I met Kore. Years, maybe a decade or so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You couldn’t fly for </span>
  <em>
    <span>ten years</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not long distances. The amount of times I’ve gone tumbling into that ocean is… A lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can fly now though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn't have flown you myself if I didn't think I could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur turns to the window, staring out of it. The little cluster of inn rooms they’d rented for the night looked out over the rippling shore, and the prince seemed to be fascinated with watching it from his room’s window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Thanks.” He mutters quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For not trying to get something out of me. The others are all so… Pushy. They don’t understand me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I do? I don’t know the first thing about you. Other than your name… You’re just a standoffish Prince.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Said prince looks less than enthused, “Gee, thanks for the high praise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grian laughs, and it’s loud, almost bird-like. As it dies down, he responds, “It’s not meant to be an insult. Also, you never told me how you know what preening is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a hesitant glance, the other replies “... My father is like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like… Has wings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The excitable, bubbly feeling works its way through Grian’s body and into his wings, which fluff up and shake in his joy, “You… know other winged people?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just my dad. Phil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phil…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Wilbur interrupts his train of thought, “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm? Nothing, nothing. I… Have to go. We'll speak soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, wait, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He hears Wilbur cry as he closes the door behind him, locking it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others are gathered in Stress’ room when he finally finds them. They turn to him expectantly as he enters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grian!” Stress smiles, “You alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles absentmindedly back at her, “Yeah. Yeah. I think this time I got more information that benefits me, than the group. Although…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Although?” Etho chimes in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we found the Hades to our Kore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You found him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not personally… Remember when she talked about children? How she wished she had them of her own?” There are nods of agreement and he continues, “I think I know why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stare at him, as if to say ‘Go on’, but he doesn't continue, and starts pacing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grian?” Stress presses carefully, “Can you tell us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s going to do it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do… what… again? Who?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly it’s just himself, Stress and Doc in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s going to-to-to chain me down an-a-and pluck at my feathers and force me to tell him my secrets and-and I—” His breaths are getting shorter and shallower, and his hands are shaking, and there are tears flowing—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grian.” Stress says softly. He can feel her guiding him back down the hall, focusing on her hand against his shoulder as she pulls the key to Wilbur’s room from his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur himself is startled at the sight, and gives Stress a disgruntled look as if to say ‘What do you want me to do about this?’ as he reluctantly shuffles further along the bed so that Grian can sit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gives the prince a glare and he nods, looking slightly scared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door clicks shut, and Stress slides down the wall to sit outside of it, listening to the conversation within. She catches muffled apologies and a brief conversation before the room falls silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stress?” Ren appears from around the corner at the end of the hall. He approaches her and helps her up from the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Ren.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They start to walk down the hall as they chat, turning the corner and descending the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he… alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” She answers, with an air of finality, “But he will be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wander down to the beach, and sit down at the shore. They're at a good enough angle where out of her peripherals, Stress can see a gold circlet in the window, glinting off of the reflection of the setting sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why d’you think they get on so well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not sure. Maybe it’s the wing thing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But the Prince is wingless, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ren gives her a sideways glance, “Genetically, he shouldn't be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Genetically?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. Doc and I did some digging. He has an older brother, their father’s heir. From his description, he’s wingless, so science says…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... That at least one of them </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>have been born with wings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Precisely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a peaceful moment where they listen to the waves sweep the shore and part with it a few times, before Stress stifles a yawn, and Ren bumps her shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon. This is just parrot boy’s rest stop, remember? We have to get going before dawn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only sign of life is the gentle breeze that sways the trees as they make their way back to their rented little ocean-side cottage.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>everyone: wilbur is a little shit<br/> me: but grian</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. This Ship Has Sailed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He pulls out a pocket watch. One of his most prized possessions, the shiny purple-ish grey outside was sold to him as a novelty piece, the metal mined and welded in Cineken; although there are tales that mark it as an artifact of Quencespirian origin. Perhaps he could get the Queen herself to confirm…</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There’s an awed crowd as the King, followed by two Princes and the Queen of Quencespire, make their way to the dock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil had noticed the missing member of their party almost as soon as Puffy had. There was a simple note on the absent Advisor’s desk, full of ink blots and crossings out, crumpled at the edges, that simply read, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s more to life than suit jackets and formalities, Phil. Raise Hell out there if you have to. I’m always listening.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no signature; but then again, both Phil and Puffy had laughed, when did Schlatt ever sign his name to anything?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Better to be untraceable than untouchable.’” He’d quoted. A long-ago memory from a long forgotten time. “I never did figure out what that meant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost flinches when Tubbo speaks up, “Your Majesty?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Tubbo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Captain says he’s ready to leave, but he wants to speak to you first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles at the young boy, “Thank you, Tubbo. Make sure you board too, alright? Wouldn’t want you getting left behind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as he’s finished speaking, Tubbo is skittering toward the ship, where Tommy is shakily trying to walk up the gangplank to board. Phil watches as Tubbo slips past Tommy nimbly and grabs the tall Prince’s hand, leading him up and onto the ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Majesty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the second time in about as many minutes, Phil flinches again, “Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Captain of this ship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“King Philza, though you know me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. Name’s not important, you can call me Q.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Q. An interesting… Initial?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The captain gives a brief nod, “Don’t particularly like giving my name to… People I don’ know personally. You can’t tell a man’s morals from lookin’ at him, you understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfectly reasonable. You have a crew, I presume?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do, but the only one you need to know at present is the Quartermaster,” He turns slightly, “Jacobs! C’mere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another man, roughly the same height as the captain, makes his way down the pier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You called, Q?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re familiar with the King.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah! Your Majesty.” He bows slightly, something Q, Phil realises, hadn't done, “It’s an honour for you to have chosen our ship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“According to all the sailors in port, King Ranboo himself has sung your praises. That puts you pretty high up in trustworthiness, in my honest opinion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man looks shocked, “Ki-King Ranboo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Q cuts in smoothly, “Respectfully, Your Majesty, I don’t automatically trust the sailors in a port. Ever.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood. Are there any issues you wish to discuss before I board?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not issues, Your Majesty— But may I make myself clear on one matter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Certainly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This here is my ship. I’m Captain, and I’ve been sailing since I could stand upright. If worse comes to worse, I give the orders, that clear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil merely smiles, “Crystal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Q studies him intensely for a moment, before stepping aside, “Welcome aboard The Duckling, King Philza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The plethora of different personalities boarding his partner’s ship was… interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firstly, the King, making his way up the gangplank. Everyone knew of him. He ruled the kingdom they were docked in, requested their ship, even. Had three sons if the rumors rung true; two by birth, and one adopted. He’s said to be the last of his kind, those with feathered wings branching from their backs, but nobody really knows for certain. Everyone who was anyone knew of the king.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was Queen Puffy, speaking quietly to one of the crew. She was… Beautiful. This stunning, opalescent character that could cheer up the darkest of hours. Of course, she must have her downs as well as her ups, as do all mortal beings, but hers were… So locked away, you’d never know. Her kingdom was as radiant as she was, and her sailors had as keen an eye as she did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the eldest Prince, polishing a spare cutlass near the bow. Prince Technoblade, known locally (particularly among sailors) as the “Blood Prince” due to his sheer strength and power of will, although more regionally known for working with his brother, Prince Wilbur. He looked fearsome, but a trained eye could observe the way the blade shook in his hands between strikes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fourth; a Knight, Dream. He was familiar with Dream, although not acquainted; the man’s reputation preceded him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A brief pause as the Timekeeper takes a moment to climb higher, partway into the rigging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two boys stand starboard. One, the smaller, paces, while the other watches him, seeming equally as nervous. Prince Tommy and servant, Tubbo. He wasn't acquainted with Prince Tommy, but if there’s one thing Karl Jacobs was, it was familiar with Tubbo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m taking stock, Captain. Just a moment!” He calls up. Not long after he’s started counting crates, a few toward the back of the pile start shifting ever so slightly. If he wasn’t paying attention, he would have missed the mop of dark hair that slides its way between a larger crate and a smaller stack of them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The movement stops entirely.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, goodness, I-I-I didn’t mean to frighten you! I just- You weren’t here when we left port from Voseytherlis, so…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The figure peeks out an eye, “Vos… eye… thur… lee?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah! One of the biggest ports currently documented. But if you don’t know what that is…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“A-Are you going to hit me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hi-Hit you? No! Of course not. I want you to be safe, like… Like when you get a hug!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What’s a… Hug?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You… Don’t know what a hug is?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is it like a fighting move, like the adults do?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, no. It’s… Would you like a hug?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Does it hurt?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Quite the opposite, actually. Would you like one?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think… Maybe I would.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Could you… come out? I can’t hug you while you’re in there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Slowly, carefully, the voice comes out of its hiding place. He opens his arms, and the small figure warily walks into them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At this point, Karl Jacobs knew two things;</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One, that he’d die for this child.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And two, that he’d long for the day that he could understand why the child hadn’t known what a hug was.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that day had come and gone, like the waves lapping the sides of the ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ex-excuse me? Could you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spins, and comes face to face with a man roughly the same height as him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lot of thoughts pass through the mind of Karl Jacobs, one such thought being ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn he’s kind of cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>’, but he simply straightens his jacket and smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could I…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could- Could, um…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jacobs!” Quackity calls, moving back towards Karl from where he’s already halfway onto the ship, “Stop messing around and— </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hola, extraño…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karl shoves Quackity as his eyes take in the—Knight? Guard? Swordsperson?—in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs somewhat nervously, rubbing the back of his neck before explaining, “I’m, ah… I’m Sapnap, one of the King’s royal guards. I mainly circulate Prince Tommy nowadays. It-It’s nice to meet you both. Really. Like. A pleasure. Yeah. Ah. Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karl gives a nervous laugh as Quackity yanks him backwards by the shoulder, leaving Sapnap standing there, looking… Rather unnerved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t tell me he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Quackity hisses at him in a reasonably loud whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I only just met him!” Karl bites back with little malice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a brief pause while Quackity searches his face for any sign of a smile or a joke, and when he finds none, they both giggle and turn back to Sapnap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you’re part of the King’s guard? Is that like… Assigned or you’re just like… A favorite?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s… Kind of a long story, but assigned, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any hobbies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what’s your favorite colour?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you seeing anyone?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity turns on him, “KARL! You can’t just ask a guy if he’s single or not when you first meet!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, listen, you know me, Quacks. I know a cute person when I see one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... True.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap—rather awkwardly—coughs, drawing their attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to interrupt, but uh… Do you know where I can find Dream? Blond guy, tall, has this big metal ax strapped to his back probably…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karl laughs, “I know Dream. I saw him talking to this other guy that was splashing sea water on him? Belowdecks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sea water… Water! That would mean… Oh Goddess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity seems to be staring at something else, so Karl jumps in with, “Is something the matter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The other guy’s name is George. The three of us have been friends for a long while and the older we get, the more they seem to… I don’t know. Flirt? Something like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both give an, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ohh</span>
  </em>
  <span>” of realisation, and Quackity adds, “Well… I don’t usually do this, but this trip is one of our most notorious because of the passengers. Since you seem to know them better than I, perhaps we can discuss it in private?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, wait a minute this is Karl exclusion—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you and I, as the two top-ranking people on board, aren't available, then one of those royals is going to get a god complex. Mark my fucking words, Jacobs. It happens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Yeah, that’s pretty reasonable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns, and climbs the gangplank, and then up into the rigging, taking out a small notebook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing was stained with seawater and age. Karl himself was only in his late twenties, but this notebook had seen a lot in the ten or so years he’d had it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flips right to a fresh page, pulling out a pencil and simply writing;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Met someone new today. Q and I think he’s pretty cute. Maybe we can get to know him more. Voseytherlis is at least three days on a ship like ours, although it could take up to a week…</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh well,” he mutters to himself, “It’s not like I’m in any sort of rush.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls out a pocket watch. One of his most prized possessions, the shiny purple-ish grey outside was sold to him as a novelty piece, the metal mined and welded in Cineken; although there are tales that mark it as an artifact of Quencespirian origin. Perhaps he could get the Queen herself to confirm…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. He was getting ahead of himself. His priorities were as usual; keep order, hold his own, and make sure his husband’s ship was still afloat at the end of the voyage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A brief glance down at the bustling ship and he was already nervous. But if there was one thing Karl Jacobs knew how to do aboard The Duckling, it was keep order.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, with nimble movements and a strong posture, he climbs back out of the rigging and gets to work on maintaining the order of the vessel.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. King Of The Hills</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Being King is exhausting. Especially for close to ninety-five percent of his life. But, Ranboo thinks, as he casts an eye around the chiselled blackstone walls of the throne room, the sun seeping in through floor-length purple-tinted windows, the way it casts the faces of anyone who comes close to them in a rich purple hue…</p><p>What was he thinking again?</p><p>No matter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Why are you pacing like that? Phil trusts the Captain, so we can too.” Tommy says definitively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not the—Never mind. All you need to know is that I’ve been on this ship before, and I don’t like it much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… Is there anything I can do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Are… Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very. Don’t you have something else to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, technically yeah, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, good for you, goodbye!” Tubbo skitters down belowdecks, out of sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy blinks for a moment before sitting down near the edge of the ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey there… Tommy, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances up to see Queen Puffy standing above him, and hastily jumps up to bow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo-Your Majesty, it-it’s an honour to meet you, I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets out a laugh, “Relax, Tommy. Phil was just telling me about you. You seem like a nice kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not really a kid. Tubbo says I seem like I’m his age.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo’s only a kid too. Sixteen, seventeen? Either way… You’re young, and you’ve been through a lot as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, ‘Been through a lot’? I just… Grew up. That’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You—I—It doesn’t matter. Just… If you need me, come find me, okay? Or if you just want to talk. I know you don’t know me but I hope we can become not-strangers by the time we… by the time we get to where we’re going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Puffy seemingly glides over towards Technoblade, and strikes up a conversation with him. Tommy’s shoulders slump, and he glances out across the ocean, waiting for the ship to set sail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s the trill of a whistle, followed by a muffled voice shouting, “Next stop, Cineken! I repeat, next stop, Cineken!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream takes it in, choosing to focus his attention on George shooting blasts of water at him. Realistically, he could probably keep his ax swinging between his hands for long enough to both tire the water elemental out </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> listen to whatever the Quartermaster is hollering above deck, but that wouldn't be as fun now, would it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Truth be told, Dream had been testing his limits. Since he discovered that his foresight had been temperamental and uncontrollable, he’d been regularly testing both that and his physical abilities to make sure those were still intact. As it stood, everything else was well. He could still wield his ax—offense and defense—and he could still scatter small amounts of light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One would think the lack of power in the light manipulation area would be a problem but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream has only ever been able to produce specks of light. He knows the lifespan of those who can produce light in general has been known to be longer, but the only living ‘proof’ they have is King Ranboo, since the king was, indeed, a Lightweaver and although his precise age was open to interpretation, records (and stories that the knight has heard King Philza tell his children) indicate the northern king as being between five hundred and </span>
  <em>
    <span>one thousand years old</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Which is… A mighty long time, considering civilians rarely reached their ninetieth or one hundredth birthday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... ream…? Dream! DREAM!” George is waving his hands frantically in Dream’s face, but jumps backwards as Dream swings his ax at the sudden movement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry. What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First of all, good Goddess you almost took my bloody hands off. I need those, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I know you need your precious hands for making waves. Did you want something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna consider that projecting since you don’t currently have all your power, but also, the captain wants to see us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George smiles, a feline, ‘I’m-Up-To-No-Good’ kind of smile, and simply states, “Someone has a crush on our dear friend Sapnap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No way</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“YES, WAY. C’mon Dream. Let's not keep the captain waiting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, George takes off towards the stairs, headed towards the captain’s quarters, leaving Dream to sputter and call, “Wait up!” before giving chase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>—</span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Majesty, there’s a shortage of doctors and medical supplies in a western village, by the loch!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods to one of his attendants, a young lady with cloth covering her hair, and simply says, “Send this woman on her way with half a dozen medical experts and as many medical supplies as they may require.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, King Ranboo.” She briskly walks across the room to the distressed woman and leads her from the throne room, muttering reassurances as the doors close gently behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being King is exhausting. Especially for close to ninety-five percent of his life. But, Ranboo thinks, as he casts an eye around the chiselled blackstone walls of the throne room, the sun seeping in through floor-length purple-tinted windows, the way it casts the faces of anyone who comes close to them in a rich purple hue…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What was he thinking again?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Highness.” The hooded figure besides him speaks up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright? You look… Perplexed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merely thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see… It is nearing the Summer Solstice. Do you wish to proceed with the festivities?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would be odd, after eight hundred or so years, to cancel them. I see no reason why we should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will be performing as usual?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps. With the current commotion in the south… It may be unwise to put myself in the public eye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s logical, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides the point. Is there any news about the Prince?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m unable to confirm, but rumour is that King Philza and Queen Puffy left Princeshythe’s port at sunrise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rumour travels fast, then. The sun has only just reached it’s centrepoint in the sky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed. I’m still quite unsure how—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“YOUR MAJESTY! My apologies, I come from—” The stranger gasps, “I come from Princeshythe. It’s… Somewhat urgent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>King Ranboo shifts his position, resting one ankle over his other knee, and his elbows on the arms of his chair and his fingers laced together, “Urgent? What’s wrong in Princeshythe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… Not just Princeshythe, Your Majesty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Before we proceed… Do I know you from somewhere?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Fundy, Your Highness. I… Used to live here as a child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. I can see why you don’t at present. Small thing like you would get stepped on tirelessly,” It’s then he notices the tail swishing behind Fundy, “Especially with that tail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, uh. Yeah. Um. Anyway. The people of Princeshythe are… Revolting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, the hooded figure speaks, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Revolting</span>
  </em>
  <span>? The King has barely been gone for a few hours! How bad could the unrest be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A guard, a tall being with a helmet, pushes the doors open, “Sorry to disrupt, King Ranboo, but we have an issue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” The King questions carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a mob of Princehythean people at the border.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>rnboo our beloved :)</p><p>also to make some things clear: part way into ranboo's perspective it mentions "a young lady with cloth covering her hair" – this is complex to explain, but since this universe doesn't have our real-world religions, I felt that saying it was a hijab wouldn't make sense. I'm an atheist, so please let me know if this offends and I'll make amends, since it's not my intention to offend at all. Thanks for reading, and hope you all are enjoying the plot!! I'm interested to know your theories in the comments (or in my discord! &lt;3)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Good day! This will be a regularly updating fic. I'll be updating around 12PM GMT on a Monday. Enjoy!<br/>https://discord.gg/WYHznc8KHC<br/>^^^ My Discord server, where I talk about this and much more MCYT content outside of my own :)<br/>(You can copy+paste the link if you can't click it!)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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